"..trace the lines on your paisley jacket"
I laughed quietly to myself. I couldn't believe I knew the words to this song. Clearly I'd been spending too much time with Eli. I reached to turn down the stereo in the hearse.
"Don't lie Clare, you know you secretly love Dead Hand." Eli smirked at me.
"Hmm, no. Not my style of music"
"No way!" he said, dripping with sarcasm. "So what's your favourite song than?"
"Clair de Lune" I said shyly. "It's how I got my name."
"So deep" Eli teased, wiping away fake tears.
I stuck my tongue out at him.
"I remember my parents had it on repeat for me as a child. Back when everything was actually okay…" I trailed off, staring ahead at the stop sign.
"Hey" he lightly touched my hand. "Things are gonna get better."
I gave him a half-smile. And I actually believed him.
Eli took a left turn onto my street and parked down the road from my house. My parents had met Eli a couple of times, but I wasn't sure they'd be cool with him driving a hearse.
They weren't going to be home for a while, so I invited him in, for some company. We headed upstairs to my bedroom. I dropped my bag on my chair, and lied on the floor.
Eli stood over me, giving me a funny look.
"Uhh, you know you have a bed right? I think their purpose might be for people to lie on. Well, that and other things." He winked at me.
I couldn't help but blush, which I'm sure Eli noticed, because for the 200th time, he smirked at me. I got the feeling he was easily amused by my innocence.
I sighed.
"Get up, Clare Bear." He held out his hands to help me up.
I pretended to gag.
"Worst nickname ever.." Although, when he called me that, I didn't mind as much.
"I'm just bugging you" he said, pulling me up.
"Thaaaanks" I replied. We were still holding hands.
"No problem. Bugging you entertains me."
"You know, most people call that flirting.." I challenged.
"Call it what you want.." He stepped closer, letting go of my hands, and slowly moving his to my waist. "But I'm not like most people.." He smirked at me.
We were inches apart and if he were any closer, I'm sure he'd be able to feel my heart beating a mile a minute.
I closed my eyes and leaned in to fill the empty space between us.
"…NOT MY FAULT! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S NEVER HOME."
I jumped back.
"That's not true!"
My parents had come home, and were already fighting.
I held my eyes shut. Was this ever going to stop?
