The metal doors were practically vibrating with the loud music playing, windows open on the highway with the smell of weed and liquor sticking to your skin like honey to a bee ; sweet, syrupy.

Driving with an idle boney hand on the wheel and the other one firmly gripping your plush thigh, just to keep contact.

His eyelight was only somewhat focused on the road, peaking glances of you from the side, wearing an ever present soft smirk.

At some point in the drive, he spoke up, voice sleazy and rough from years of smoking and his natural voice.

“... Hey, babygirl, give me a lil’ hit won’t’cha?”