Makoto liked to sing, especially in the car. I guess that's normal for most people though. I don't like to sing in front of people. Not even in front of Mako-chan. I'm too shy for it. She has caught me singing before, though. She'd come home and I'll be on the computer and singing along to the radio. She says I have a sweet voice. I think she's biased.

I digress.

Makoto enjoys singing. Especially in the car. Especially while driving. I usually defer to her driving, even if it scares me a bit. Right now she's rocking out to some punk song, headbanging and yelling along with the words. I would scold her for the headbanging but we're currently stopped at a light.

I smile at her and she makes some kind of rage face at me, to match the lyrics she sings. I giggle, shake my head and go back to my book (it helps me from screaming in terror at her driving). I feel the car jolt and we're driving again.

The song changes but I don't really take notice of it. The only reason I do notice is because Makoto has reached over with her left hand and, starting at my temple, rakes her fingers gently back through my hair. I shiver and look up at her again.

Her eyes are on the road, her right hand on the wheel (I would complain about 10 and 2 but I love her hands in my hair) and she's smiling. She's also still singing.

This song is gentler. A sappy 90s pop song about loving someone before meeting them. As if that could ever be true. So illogical. I would have secondhand embarrassment if not for one fact: Makoto is singing it to me.

She isn't looking at me. She can't because she's driving. But the way her hand slides through my hair, her nails gently scratching my scalp... I can't help the way my heart flutters in my chest.

Makoto glances at me when we stop again, smiling that smile that made me fall in love with her as she continues to sing to me. Her voice is soft but I can hear her perfectly over the radio. She brushes my hair behind my ear before turning back to the road and driving again.

Makoto's hand drifts down to the back of my neck and she gently squeezes me there as the song ends. Then she moves her hand to my knee and, again, squeezes.

I duck my head and smile and turn back to my book. I'll be sure to kiss her senseless when we get home.


AN: I will give a cookie to the person who can guess the song. It's not much to go on, I admit, but hopefully someone gets it.