Tumblr prompt: Hair stroking...
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Ben bent his knees and gripped the tire iron then lifted on the folcrum. He strained against the lug nut using all the power of his legs to push. Tory watched him in the mirror, feeling the push of his weight against the Explorer rocking it up and down. She felt the shift of the vehicle and watched him fly backwards into the ditch. She was out of the car and heading towards him, the rain soaking her in an instant.
His angry, guttural scream gave her pause. She observed from the shoulder. Sitting waste deep in the drainage ditch, he examined the tire iron still clutched in his hand. He pushed himself up and threw it out into the trees. The head of the lever was still perched on the unmoving lug nut.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"No. Yes. No," he was breathing hard and still looking along the trajectory of his broken tool. "Get back in the car."
Tory glanced down at her already soaked clothes and then at him fighting the loose gravel of the ditch and opted to offer him a hand instead. He took it, although not when it was first offered, but after a few more slipping steps. When she had him on the shoulder, he didn't look at her.
Setting back to his task, he lowered the jack and packed it away into the back. Under the back hatch lid, he stood with his hands on his hips, still fuming, still avoiding her eye. Still prideful and angry and with every intention of receding into himself. A month ago, she would have slunk back to the font seat and let him cool off on his own schedule. She would have called her dad and gotten his Triple A number and made the arrangements. A month ago, she was Ben's friend Tory. Now, she could sense she had a slight opportunity to mend Ben's foul mood.
She stepped under the overhang and Ben fell back, leaning just under the drips that came through where the hatch met the roof. He pursed his lips and crossed his arms. She stepped so her feet were between his, her thighs touching just a moment before her arms circled around him. One breath, then another, and the warmth of his angry body steamed into hers. Then a third breath and his arms looped around her back and his cheek found a comfortable spot on top of her head.
Tory pulled away and hopped up into the car, pulling his arm so he faced her. A small smile attempted to overtake his lips, but failed. His hair clung to his face, wrapping under his chin and sticking to his neck. Tory wanted to push it behind his ear. She'd wanted to touch his hair and his face and to clear the clouds so many times before even if she denied it to her self for most of a year. The shift in their relationship emboldened her instincts. She lifted her right hand to his left temple and racked fingernails against his scalp. His think, straight strands tried to stay suctioned to his skin, a few passes were necessary to set them right. But she couldn't stop. One grazing fingernail along the roots behind his ear and his eyes fluttered closed, his lips parted just slightly, and he leaned into her for a delicate kiss forgetting the rain and the mud and mostly just ignoring the still flat tire.
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