She looked depressed. Her hood aiming downward at the stream below the bridge she parked herself on. She liked gardens, scenery, the places where cars could only hear the breeze ruffling leaves and such. No inner city traffic or horns.
Maybe she liked the odd fish that swam by, that sort of stuff excited her. Too bad most of them were sleeping at this hour. She was just buying the time.
He rolled forward, seeing her expression cascading some reflecting moonlight. Her eyes were starry as she shifted her weight, looking his way. That same pure stare.
"Some fans wanted signatures," Jackson stated simply, explaining his five minute tardiness, looking over her form.
"It's okay," Melise answered, "I was just... daydreaming here."
"As usual," he replied.
She was peach again. Good.
She breathed a shaky sigh after a moment, moving along the grass off the small bridge, "I like the scenery."
"I know." he said, another simple reply.
She didn't mumble anything more as she cruised slowly. The racer's engine was bored with the slow movement, following along silently.
Newly installed pot lights lit the path, surrounding trees keeping the light from scattering the scenic acres.
She bit her lip as she fought the urge to look through her mirrors.
"Do I have to stamp on another autograph?" Jackson asked, "I know being in the presence of a champion can cause shock. I don't blame you."
Melise braked in the three way branch of the trail, the racer approaching at a speed slower than her. She looked at him, his same half-closed confident glance.
"It is impressive— is, isn't it?" She stuttered, her voice barely a whisper. Her eyes were everywhere.
"You talked a lot yesterday, can't find your voice today?" his comment sounded more like harmless sarcasm than blunt contempt.
Her mouth opened only slightly before he cut her off.
"Take it easy," he stated, picking up on her anxiousness.
Melise inhaled, "It's easier to move around with my doughnut tires on now."
Jackson raised a lid, looking the small wheels over, "that's what you call your tires? Doughnuts?"
"Yes, because they're soft and boucy, like wearing doughnuts."
His expression remained twisted as he calculated her sentence.
"Keep them on," he commented, "better than the knock-offs you had on last time."
She smiled to herself, the racer mouth curling at the side as she ate up the comment, either amusement or fluster, maybe both. No one else could make her smile like that, he was certain of it.
"Good thing my paint is normally peach," she said with a nervous tone. She was trying.
"Good thing." He replied.
He lead the way down the right trail, keeping his headlights off despite the dimming natural light. His decals seemed to glow, or reflect light, she still wasn't sure which was correct. This conversation couldn't stay dull, she had to spice it up.
"Jackson? I think... you're lucky! Like your friend said."
She saw him slow down, not looking her way, "Because I won all the races? You're gonna congratulate me again?" he asked, bored.
"No," her voice grew smaller, her tone trying to project out of nervousness,
"Because... you get to hang out with a cute car like me."
Her words came out with some confidence. A sweet smile on her features as he swiveled into a U-turn, lid raised in rare surprise.
"What?"
"That's what he said right? The Revolutions Per Minute sponsored race car?" Melise continued to smile. She was bold enough.
Jackson looked her up and down, focussing last on her eyes, "He said 'Angel', but I guess the terms are the same."
She laughed sweetly. Her assertive mood falling slowly into place.
The racer pulled up to a wide, spacious veranda. He parked himself, somewhat indifferent to the view. After a moment, Jackson turned, seeing the convertible timid to approach.
"What is that sound?" Melise asked listening to the steady crash against the plateau.
"It's water." Jackson answered flatly, "You know, waves?"
The ocean. She couldn't see much of a thing as she squinted from the distance.
"Are you scared of this?" he asked, his tone resonating amusement.
Melise approached, cautious as the noise grew louder, Jackson watched her with a sly grin, capturing each second of her star struck reaction to the scene ahead.
A breathtaking gasp escaped her mouth, and she paused in her tracks, watching the ripples reflect streetlights. Stray drops of water sprayed up a mist.
"This is the kind of stuff you like, right?" Jackson exchanged a glance from her to the high tide below.
"I knew you lived under a rock, so seeing the ocean for the first time must be a highlight."
"Jackson?"
"Now what?" he answered slow, eyes narrow, and still on the water.
"Why are we doing this?"
He gave her a quizzical look.
Melise exhaled, "How did this all happen?" she asked, careful not to stir him with questions.
"Did you forget screaming across the track?" he retorted back, "You threw me off my line for a second, but I still beat the old timers."
He stared her down for a second, a stern look on his features despite his immediate thoughts, "Probably asked this already, why did you do that?"
"There was a lot of doubt—" he rolled closer to hear her shy voice, "and I didn't hear anyone rooting for you. At least then, I thought, why not?"
"Thanks." he said after a long stare her way.
Melise was grateful for the sounds of crashing waves, keeping the silence from drowning in. She couldn't tell if he was bored or not. He always had a simple array of faces he made.
"Should we go back, now?"
"We just got out here, now you want to go back?" Jackson gave her an incredulous look at the question. He came closer, her brakes locked despite herself.
His wheels aligned alongside her, only inches apart. He breathed a relaxed sigh, eyes focussed on the dark view.
When a cooled down breeze passed, Melise closed her lids, trying to make relief of the moment.
Her tire was pulled moderately, and her axle could only stretch so far. Melise kept her eyes closed tightly, afraid of the reality. Her fender was cushioned against someone, and he wasn't going to let go of her inner tread just yet.
A second of silence passed, and he tugged her gently and closer, letting most of her weight lean on him. Jackson gauged her reaction with each second, seeing she was seemingly in a haze, accepting, but her mind in a maze. She was good here, it kept her quiet— no more silly questions.
She didn't do that thing where she chewed her bottom lip. Her cab was tense, nervous and anxious. He didn't have to ask her about it. He didn't just run into cars like her for no reason.
"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, the simply sentence more of a rhetorical statement. He already knew.
"For a moment yesterday, I was certain you would be angry forever." Melise murmured.
"I thought you wished we would have never met." she choked.
He didn't reply. She wanted to forget it too.
Jackson felt her shuffle her weight slightly, and she snuggled in closer, her warm and soft exhale on his fender. She still felt like a pillow.
"How's your light?" he remembered.
"Much better," she murmured, "How is your track record?"
He scoffed, "Perfect."
She giggled, leaning away in the throwaway moment. He smirked, pulling her back to him.
"Do you have to be so full of it?" her voice was sweet. The usual.
"What do I possibly have to lose?" his tone suggested it as a matter of fact.
That was him, this was Jackson Storm. Nothing he said was much of an understatement. Sometimes he tossed in extra jabs for effect, but he was, at the very least, honest.
Glancing down, she seemed to think about it. She couldn't really come up with a response. Her nerves never seemed to settle, no matter how hard she tried to remain calm. She wasn't used to this, and he expected nothing less.
Jackson's eyes trailed towards some stray headlights down the far end of the deck. He was hardly concerned, he was an icon after all, he could never really hide from them.
"Was that a fish?" Melise watched the water splash gently, the darkness keeping both cars from seeing much.
"Probably." Jackson replied, watching her eyes search the dimmed sea for a moment.
"You've never seen a fish either."
Melise glanced up to him, her cheek squishing endearingly against his metal, "Only the ones inside an aquarium."
He scoffed lightly, a single chuckle as he shook his hood.
"Imagine being lost at sea... way out there," she spoke, dreamily, "If you looked in every direction, all you would see is more water on the horizon."
"That's weird." he said after a moment of watching her eyes suggest the thought was genuine curiosity.
She reversed a few inches, freeing herself from his grasp, "It's kind of like being on a endless race track?"
Melise watched Jackson's eyes narrow coolly as he glanced her way. After a second, he flexed his mouth, "It's nothing like it, but I'll let your imagination run wild."
Her eyes twinkled, and she giggled through pursed lips. When her eyes opened, Jackson was still studying her with a refreshing relaxation. Melise froze, her nerves still rocketing the entire night. He was making a different— somewhat invigorated, face. She wasn't sure how to feel, the anxiousness getting the best of her.
He looked above her roof, his eyes scanning briefly. Melise kept herself is submission, her doe eyes anticipating the inevitable. Jackson's glance focussed back on her, he moved forward a few inches watching her lips with the same cool, ease.
Melise's breathing quickened, the high-pitch gasp came, and Jackson stopped, looking back to her eyes.
"Do you want me to stop?"
Her lids were raised high, feeling the cold mint he exhaled on her as his mouth made very light contact, practically a graze.
"Y-You haven't d-done anything, yet."
"You're right," his sonorous voice replied very close. He straightened his heavy axles, pulling away.
"That's why I'm not going to do it."
Melise gasped, anxious, nervous, and now, confused. Her peach fenders became rosy and embarrassment heaved her insides. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or mortified.
"Relax," he continued, eying her, checking her out up and down, "I've got my reasons. Besides, someone's watching."
Melise hardly heard him, her thoughts still flat lined. Her lips quivered timidly.
"When you go back to that dingy suite of yours, make sure you lock the doors for once."
"Wh… why?"
"It's getting too easy to send you stuff," he answered, "I'm a world-class race car, known everywhere I go, and it's harder to send me stuff."
He watched as she seemed to ignore the message, coming closer. He didn't back away as her plump lips pressed against his left headlight. The move was gentle, half sweet, half masked anxiousness.
It only lasted a second before she pulled away, her tires reversing slow as her hood was down casted in passiveness. Jackson deserved it.
He stared at her, lost and perplexed all over again, "Don't do that without asking me, again." His tone wasn't too resilient, just a statement.
"Sorry."
"Stop apologizing, too."
"Sorry for apologizing too much."
He blew a sigh, staring her down with calm narrow eyes. Jackson didn't regret meeting her one bit. She was never a dull moment, even when she was dull.