you and him were relaxing in a red convertible that was his fathers that was parked at the peak of a near mountain where most teens came to make out or just relax. the night was warm.. a good twenty-five degrees.

he faces you, his hand in yours, his face a bit emotionless. like usual.

“do you ever just think that’s your not alive but just existing?” he says as you turn your body from the passenger seat to face him with a confused look on your face