Page 52 of Hunted, Season Three

Sure, at first glance, it’s easy to conclude he likes cars.

Like…lives and breathes cars.

But when you really get into the different tabs of his psyche you see something else.

He – in a weird way –isa car.

Straightforward.

Mechanical.

Predictable.

You look at it and understand the basics.

It’s gonna drive.

It’s gonna get you from point A to B.

It needs an engine and means to make it go.

Again.

Pretty elementary.

Yet in the same breath it’s so complex and crafty.

Intricate and intense.

Simultaneously, a work of art as well as a seemingly simplistic machine.

It’s like a never-ending list of data to sort.

I love it.

I love him.

Fuck, I love them both.

I love them both and amsograteful they found me.

Kept me.

Foughtforme.

With me.

I don’t know why but thewith mepart matters more to me.

Heartwarming sensations soar through my system pushing me to switch my phone to my left hand.

Stretch over my right.

Gently brush strands away on his forehead, ultimately receiving happy hums alongside his bleary gaze.“Morning, baby.”

Tenderness deepens to the point where it can be undeniably heard in my tone.“Morning.”

Kid lovingly captures my fingers to plant a kiss on my knuckles.“You sleep okay?”

---