I was a little faster updating this time and I hope you'll like this chapter too. I know it's not all that filled with action but I like writing it slow so that all emotions and reactions isn't lost on you. Hope you like it!

I blinked tiredly feeling the sleepiness melt away from my system as I sat up from my slouched position.

Looking around I realized I was still in the car and Tim was still beside me driving. Feeling something heavy on my lap I looked down to see Tim's leather jacket laying sprawled out over my legs. The same jacket that I brought out to him, that night when Curly and him had that fight.

It felt warm and heavy and from it I recognised a faint scent of leather, cigarettes and something purely Tim. I was so concentrated on the jacket that I didn't notice Tim looking at me with his intense and stony eyes.

"Ya looked cold" he said as an explanation and as I looked over to meet his eyes he averted his and fixed them on the road ahead.

Looking around I could see we were now on a smaller road in the middle of nowhere. It was probably about an hour to dawn since the sky was beginning to light up.

"Where're we?" I managed to mumble, I felt like I hadn't used my voice in days, it really was only an hour.

"Looking for a place to crash" he said and I watched him blink his eyes tiredly, concentrating on his driving. I searched the side of the road for signs, not willing to point out that I hadn't meant what we were doing, but where we were.

Suddenly Tim made a sharp turn and speed up, racing towards a group of small, low houses on the side of the road. As we got closer I could make out a sign that said Lloyd's motel´, the neon o in motel was broken and the rest of the sign was blinking.

Tim pulled the handbrake, making the car halt, the gravel outside the motel created a dry mist. He turned the engine off and got out of the car, without saying a word to me.

I watched him leave from the car. Walking over the gravel to the small wooden house that said Office´, he looked like a real hood.

His boots looked dusty and worn, trough his thin white shirt you could make out the tattoo on his chest and in the back pocket of his jeans his switchblade was sticking up for everyone to see. He walked in a purposeful stride, the cold wind not being able to freeze him up or ruffle his short hair; the cut clearly stated that he had been in jail.

As he disappeared behind the door of the office, I sunk down further in my seat, pulling his jacket up to my chin. It was cold, the kind of autumn cold that roams the nights but spares the day.

My thoughts drifted to Curly, wondering what he was doing. Was he worried about me? Probably not I thought. He was surly out finding someone to give him what I wouldn't give and somewhere inside of me I couldn't be angry about it.

Because maybe he was right maybe love wasn't real, or love was but fidelity wasn't. He'd regret it afterwards, I always knew he did, but he never told me. That's how I knew he was cheating on me, cause of his guilty looks.

But then again he never promised me he'd be faithful, not many greasers were. And whatever he did, I still loved him, more then I'd ever loved anyone.

"Come on kid" Tim's voice pulled me from my thoughts and I got out, his jacket still in my hands, following him to a small cabin further down a small gravel path.

"Get in" he said as he opened the door with a key and I moved passed him into the room.

It was small, only fitting a big bed and a small table with a TV on it and a chair.

Tim was about to walk off leaving me there when I reached out and grabbed him by his hand.

"Where're ya going?" his hand felt warm and rugged, like the hand of a man who'd worked all his life, although his fingers were long and thin like a pianoman's.

"Gonna give Curly a call, let 'im know where ya're" he said, his warm, heavy hand still in mine.

I flinched at the mention of Curly, remembering I was musing over the warmth of his brother's hand which I was holding. The lump of guilt grew bigger and nastier inside of me.

"Don't" I said, desperately clinging to Tim's hand, wanting him to understand.

Tim looked at me like one would look at a small child who was hanging onto you out of fear. Although I could see nothing but cold in his grey eyes, I sensed him pitying me for feeling the way I did about his brother. He felt sorry for me because I could feel love.

"Right" he said, untangling his hand from mine and taking a step back to look at me "Fine"

I drew a breath of relieve, happy that he let me get my way on this one.

I watched Tim as he closed the door behind out and walked passed me, turning on the TV and getting himself comfortable on the bed. He was half sitting, leaning his head and shoulders against the wall behind him, his legs stretched out in front of him.

I stood frozen to the spot, not knowing what to do.

"What's wrong with ya, ya scared of me?" Tim asked, a teasing smirk on his chiselled face.

I couldn't answer him as my mind was filled with his image, my mind repeating his words over and over.

"Don't worry, I don't make moves on other peoples girlfriends" he stated coldly. Something in his voice almost resembling a bitter kind of hurt.

As if I had insulted him somehow.

"That's not what I was thinking" I said, as I walked around the bed and sat down on the opposite side from him, mimicking his pose, but keeping a safe distance.

Tim didn't look at me, he had his eyes on the TV, but he didn't seem to be watching it.

I fixed my eyes on the TV and let my thoughts wander. What he said was probably true, he didn't take interest in other guy's girlfriends, why would he? He could have anyone, like that girl with the cardigan.

"Tim" I said, trying to get his attention but when he turned to look at me, I lowered my eyes to the jacket I was still holding onto. Realizing that I was still holding it, I put it gently on the bed between us, next to Tim.

"That girl from the party at your house" I said, my eyes still glued to my lap "Ya know the brown-haired one…"

Tim's eyes where still fixed on my face, but now he averted them and started to rummage through his pockets for his cigarettes.

"She came back the next day, when ya weren't home…" I looked up at him testingly, watching him light up a cigarette with fast and secure movements.

"…she wanted to get her cardigan back and when ya weren't home she said she'd come back later…"

I saw Tim flinch in the corner of my eye.

"…the thing is I told her I'd get her the cardigan so she didn't have to come back" I blurted it out, knowing I just had to do it and get it over with.

"So?" he asked in his cold and detached voice, making me jump in surprise. I thought he would be mad since Curly always told me to stay away from his room.

I looked up and met his hard grey eyes, unable to see anything in there.

"I went up to your room to get it" I said in a low voice, almost inaudible.

Tim didn't give me any hint as to what he was feeling about it, as he turned from me and fixed his eyes on the TV again.

"Curly told me ya don't like people to be in your room…" I said.

"…but I promise I just…"

"It doesn't matter" he interrupted me, his voice cold and indifferent.

"I don't have anything in there anymore anyway"

I didn't get what he meant exactly, what did he used to have in there, that he didn't anymore and that nobody, not even Curly was to see?

"Let's just watch some TV and sleep" he said and smiled a weak and bitter smile that didn't reach his eyes, his mind seemed to be stuck on something else, as he took a deep drag of his cigarette.

He was looking blindly at the TV and I studied his face, wondering about him and about me.

Why was I so interested in his life and his thoughts? What was it about him that was so strange and different? He didn't seem to be the guy that Curly had described, he wasn't as hard and mean.

He just seemed empty.

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