This is it. It's cold and rainy and I'm in the back of his car and this is about to happen.

It was New Year's, you were sixteen, and Reno had just bought a car.

There was a party. You went, but when everyone else went inside, the two of you took shelter elsewhere.

Kissing. Grinding. Skin on skin, that inexorable press of oh god heat and you had never wanted anything more.

His breath was right next to your ear as you moved together, in the almost-dark, whispering nothings with every exhalation. Then you stopped thinking about anything.

WHITE was the only thing you heard or saw. Sweet, biting WHITE.

You distantly heard yourself release a strangled cry. Reno bit down on your left shoulder, drawing blood as he rocked into you one last time.

"____!" That was what he remembered, that he was with you. God, this was cramped and awkward and perfect, and it was meant to be this way.