Fast, precision driving. I look over at Nikki and see the relaxed expression as she pushes my Mustang past 85. Daughter of an ex-cop, Nikki learned how to drive smooth and precise from a very young age. Always was a speed demon though.
"Butterfly" pulsates from the BOSE sound system, the gentle smooth free flowing stream of the music along with the fine-tuned purr of the engine give a new meaning to her handling my car. Almost as if her second nature the "power house" car with its 617 horse power. She doesn't miss a lyrical flow as she maneuvers the animal, hurdling down the empty streets with the grace of a figure skater.
"Love this song" she breaks the silence. Almost startled by the sudden sound of the alien sound I answer "oh...Yeah it's ok." She stays quiet for longer than usual and I notice that her body had tensed "why is there any reason?" I ask. I hear a muffled choke on a sob "It was our song."
I remember there being A song just not which. After she left me, destroyed me I just erased all that caused the pain to linger. An awkward silence fills the car "I'm sorry. I remember it's our song just…. (Sigh) … after us I tried to forget all that held pain from my heart." Her body loosens and she responds "I really didn't mean to hurt you, honest. You know how many nights I spent up thinking of how stupid it was?"