She first noticed him in produce, digging through the courgette box like there was some hidden treasure at the bottom. She grabbed one from the top of the pile, and her hand entering his field of vision startled him, made him set down the half a dozen courgettes he had in his arms, and turn to look at her, cheeks flushed, as she dropped her vegetable into the basket on her arm.
‘Sorry,’ he said, running a now vegetable-free hand through his untidy black hair, 'my housemate is forcing me to be stupidly particular about my courgette selection.’
Accidentally In Love-Counting Crows / All Of The Stars- Ed Sheeran / Can’t Take My Eyes Off You- Joseph Vincent / One Call Away- Charlie Puth / YOUTH- Troye Sivan / Fall For You- Secondhand Serenade / Say You Like Me- We The Kings / Somewhere Only We Know- Keane / Give Your Heart A Break- Demi Lovato / You Belong With Me- Taylor Swift / Act My Age- One Direction / Call Me Maybe- Carly Rae Jepsen / I Won’t Give Up- Jason Mraz / Fallin’ For You- Colbie Caillat / Without You- David Guetta ft. Usher / We Found Love- Rihanna / I Was Made For Loving You- Tori Kelly / Obviously- Mcfly / Lovesick- Peace / A Thousand Years- Boyce Avenue
So, a brief excerpt from the next chapter of my fic “Give Me Strength”, but it can be read as a small standalone. It was too fun not to share:
Trini will be the first to acknowledge that she’s done some stupid, reckless, morally questionable things in her life, but nothing so terrible as to warrant the horrendous fate that befalls her now. Her brows crinkle, lips twisted in disgust, and as she stares out the window at the passing scenery, she vows to make a change if it means this will be the first, last, and only time she’s subjected to Kimberly Hart’s singing.
“-and I miss you. And I need you. And now I wonder-”
Honestly, she wishes it was because Kim has a terrible voice, because at least then she’d have a valid reason for her misery. As it stands, the girl could sing the dictionary, and albums would still fly off the shelf, her voice in perfect harmony with the music that blares out her car’s stereo. Regrettably, her choice in song has the unwelcome effect of transporting Trini back to the early 2000’s, a time she thankfully has no personal recollection of, but is continuously bombarded with its pop culture by nostalgic twenty-something’s and (evidently) peppy ex-cheerleaders with no real sense of shame.
“-if I could fall into the sky, do you think time would pass me by?”
‘Not. fast. enough.’ Trini silently laments, clenching and unclenching her fist to expel the restless energy that’s been building up since the moment she was trapped in this hell hole on four wheels.
“-cause you know I’d walk a thousand miles, if I could just see you tonight…”
Trini would walk a thousand miles straight into the path of an oncoming train if it meant relief from this assault to her ear drums, desperately wishing she hadn’t lent Billy her headphones. He sits in the backseat, a peaceful smile on his lips as he listens to a podcast, oblivious to the torture she’s forced to endure as Kimberly continues to belt out lyrics. Vaguely, she wonders if it would be less painful to simply open the passenger door and roll out onto the interstate; at least with her powers, she knows she’d most likely survive, and that semi a few cars back is looking rather inviting…
Fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on which way you look at it – she’s saved from making that decision, the song coming to an end as the last few notes fade out. Sadly, her reprieve is short lived, the next track kicking in as an all too familiar tune blasts through the speakers.
“I threw a wish in a well. Don’t ask me, I’ll never tell-”
The car swerves into the shoulder, narrowly missing the guard rail as Kimberly leans across the center console, one hand on the wheel as the other clutches frantically to Trini’s bicep. Wind rushes in through the open door, her hair billowing as she attempts to throw herself out, held back only by the firm grip to her arm.
“TRINI! WHAT THE FUCK!? GET BACK IN THE CAR!” she screams, eyes shot with panic.
Trini merely goes limp, hoping her dead weight will be enough to break Kim’s hold, and she’ll mercifully go flying into traffic.
“WHAT IS HAPPENING??” Billy cries, tearing off his headphones.
“I DON’T KNOW, BUT-… SHIT, I’M PULLING OVER.”
Five minutes later, they’re back on the road, a content smile on Kimberly’s lips as she hums along to ‘Party in the USA’. Trini sits sullenly, the doors and windows set on child lock, as she stares scathingly at the hand interlocked with her own, their fingers twined to keep her held in place.
But as stubbornly as she refuses to acknowledge it, Trini has to admit that Kim’s hand is the softest thing she’s ever held.