I'm not sure who woke up first. Then again, I'm not sure it mattered.

The gravel littered across the parking lot was digging into my back and thighs, finding way through my hair and straight to my scalp. I'm sure Nick was feeling the same things, slowly rolling away from me as I slowly rolled away from him. He brushed little rocks off himself, sighing deeply and trying to make something of his surroundings. The air was chilling, a bit damp, clinging to our frames like transparent blankets. A bank of clouds had settled a bit lower than usual, and it started to get foggy in the distance, real foggy. Looked around, completely confused, until I saw the fat red Hyvee sign in front of me, " oh shit."

Nicholas looked up, eyebrows pulled together, one raised a hint more than the other, " what?" his expression fell, " oh."

In our brilliance, we had somehow managed to fall asleep, and stay asleep, in the Hyvee parking lot until - I pulled out my phone - five thirty am. That meant one of two things a: we were going to chill there for a bit or b: we were getting an early start towards home. I honestly preferred the first option.

Nick stood, going up on his hands, then bending straight. He continued to move away little pebbles from his jacket and jeans, and I tossed him his beanie to cover his unruly hair. Not that I didn't like it. I really liked it. He was quick to pull it on, slicking back the dark locks, a few sticking out and touching his forehead and what not. He offered me a hand, which I took, and lifted me up. I swatted at my rear, vaguely aware that there was still rocks embedded in my pants. Nick broke the quiet, " Not the weirdest place I've slept."

" Definitely the weirdest place I've slept." I replied, then I frowned, " wait, what?"

He merely smiled. Linking our fingers, we slowly, but surely, started towards the van. It was parked horribly at the other end of the parking lot, near the line of trees parallel to us. Fog had laced its merry way between the trunks, tickling the bark. As we walked, I leaned against his shoulder, my blond hair matted by the gravel and his chest. I wondered if I could cut it shorter, layer it at the bottom of my neck, or maybe even higher than that. Then again, I probably couldn't pull it off. Nick leaned back briefly, " what are you thinking about?"

" My hair." I replied, with a nod and a simple expression. Then I smiled up a him.

He smiled back, shaking his head like I was an amusing disappointment. Only sometimes. I had some brilliant moments that were worth dying for, " very inspiring. Why so?"

" Well, I'm wondering what it would like like if I cut it shoulder than my shoulders, or right at." I muttered, trying to picture it. The reality was, I needed a pair of scissors and a bunch of confidence. It wasn't like hair didn't grow back - if I didn't like it, I could let it grow back and learn from my mistakes. To bad, it still felt too risky.

Nick chewed at a spot on the inside of his mouth, on his bottom lip that caused it to suck in slightly and make him look nearly edible. I greatly valued his opinion, meaning my ears were wide open while I waited for his response. It took awhile to form. We had stopped walking and he had moved to stand in front of me. Playing with my hair, he made one side loosely vary in length, tilting his head this way and that to get a good perspective of what his decision would be, " I think you'd look just as beautiful as you do now."

While the compliment was sweet, I felt like I had waited awhile for nothing. He knew how to mend though.

" I mean it. I say go for it, if you want. You'll look amazing." He smiled, and winked, something I had adjusted to. I still shivered every time, though, " why?"

" I don't like it all messy like this, it looks like I rolled in mud or something." I said, musing my hair with my fingertips.

He took one of the strands, twisted it around his finger loosely before letting it go, " I like it." He replied, " it's wild, different. Like you." Wrapping his arm around my waist, he pulled me to his side and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, then pecked my nose as he pulled away. My facial features scrunched up.

" well, at least someone does."

" don't be sour." he teased, pinched my side. I jerked away from his hand, straight into him, causing us to stumble to the side. We probably looked like young drunkards who'd just had a really messed up night. In a way, that's what it felt like - but the night was beyond perfect. Just laying with him in a parking lot made me smile and wonder why I'd ever be worried about losing him.

Walking back to a vehicle so we could go home made me wonder how I could forget.

We stepped into the van, myself climbing in before Nick. The air inside had been chilled by the outdoors, a friendly reminder that we hadn't slept inside of it, rather, outside it's safe walls, where anything could have rained terror on us. Thankfully, nothing felt the need to ruin our night and kill any sparks we had so gratefully ignited. Maybe at that point, we were too far to put out. Maybe by then we were a raging flame that fed off both hydrogen and oxygen, making water defenseless in our wake. No oceans could stop up when we were together. No oceans could stop Nick.

He fell into the driver's seat, blinking rapidly to battle the exhaustion that settled on us both. Even with a half-decent night of sleep, we were still tired and worn from all of the travel. We had been on the road for so long, it didn't feel like a road trip, rather, a road life. There was nothing but us and the open scenery, sometimes other cars breaking the bond between our surroundings. I didn't mind - sometimes it got lonely to be the only ones out and about. We took mostly two lane roads, not big main intersections, so it wasn't too rare for it to be so vacant, but it still felt off. Maybe it was the fact that we had taken such a disjointed, uncoordinated, path to my grandmother, or maybe it was the fact that our same path had been the very thing to stitch us together. I couldn't help but think the knot at the end of our string would unravel, and it would slip out of our skin and on to the ground, where we wouldn't have a needle to thread it again.

Maybe, most likely, I was over thinking.

I did that a lot. It didn't help that we had all this time and such little to talk about. Or maybe we had a lot to talk about, and we didn't know where to begin. There had to be some means of conversation for us to talk about. We had played all the games, done all the attractions. At that point, it seemed like everything we did was spontaneous and kind of unlikely. There had to be something, " Tell me about your high school."

He laughed, like I was asking what the inside of his mother's womb was like. I pulled up my legs, resting my cheek on my knee. Blond hair snaked over my skin, tickling the surface nerves, " thanks Arson, that's a great reply. I take it your education wasn't solid, then?"

A sigh. Sliding his hands down the wheel, he said, " My high school life sucked, Angel."

Then it hit me. In my defense, I was dead tired and my joints were still stiff from laying on the concrete of a grocery store parking lot. Never the less, I shouldn't have been so insensitive. It made it look like I lacked compassion, when that wasn't entirely true; some people just didn't deserve it. My cheeks reddened with embarrassment and apology, " I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking... I just... sorry."

" It's okay." He shrugged, " My high school, the school itself, was really nice, basically a private school but with a bunch of perks. You either got in by brains, talent, or money." He explained. He was always animated when he was talking, actually into the things he was saying rather than just making white noise.

I, politely, cut him off, " So, in your case, all of the above?"

" I was definitely an everything child. Jericho got in based on talent and brains, if you're wondering." He replied.

" I was actually. What was his home life like?"

" his story angel, not mine."

" right, back to your high school." I said, waved my hand nonchalantly.

" I was big into the music program after my parents passed. My music teacher was awesome, she got me into piano, actually." He said, smiling slightly at the memory. We drifted around a curve in the road, sure to stay on the right side. I quite enjoyed his excellent driving skills - it made my life as a passenger much easier.

" got you into piano? I thought you've been playing it forever?" It sounded like it. As soon as his fingers hit the keys, he could make music happen. Even if the song didn't actually exist, it felt like it had been something that was meant to be, and should have been, forever. A raw ability like that didn't just happen overnight.

He arched a brow slightly, following the road as it bent to the left, " I did. I've been playing since I could walk. It's just, for the longest time, it never mattered if I was a prodigy. Everything I was learning was my parents choice, not mine. When they passed, I gave it up, sort of. I'd play a few things, but I never really expressed myself on it until she pushed me."

" what'd she do?" what wonderful method did that lady use to make such a glorious musician? Prodigy felt like an understatement when he was playing. A very large understatement. UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEARS, all caps needed.

" she gave me the first page of a piece, and told me to play it. I told her it wasn't finished before I started. She looked at me, smiled, and said finish it."

" just like that?"

" exactly like that."

" and you did it? You just finished the piece?"

" Yeah. It was something she had written, playing around with some melodies and what not. As I played it, I guess I sort of let go. Everything I was feeling at the time, all I had built up, became the piano and the song she had me play."

" you wrote a whole fucking song, and didn't write it down?"

" I could play it for you any day of the week."

" legit?"

" yeah."

" you have it all memorized?" And that, ladies and gentlemen, was when I tapped out. If he could remember a fully fledged piece he played spur of the moment, I was about as useful as a packet of creamy chicken flavoring when you're making ramen. I sucked.

He smiled, shrugged, " sure. It means something to me, so it just stuck."

The tables had turned. It was no longer UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEAR, rather, UNDERSTATEMENT OF EVERYTHING EVER IN EXISTENCE OR THAT'S GOING TO EXIST AND THEN SOME. Maybe for some people it wasn't that great of a feat, but it was huge to me. I had never found something that clicked for me like that, and knowing Nick had, and was willing to give it up, made my heart burn worse than the sun. He was making ideas grow like flowers in my head, but didn't have the generosity to water them, " that's... amazing. I've never had anything like that."

His eyebrow hinted up, " of course you have."

" oh?"

" yeah." He tapped his fingertips on my knuckles, other hand loose on the wheel as he drove, " Any memory that's close to you, it's the same thing."

I wrapped an arm around my shins. At some point our palms had found one another, and had taken it upon themselves to interlock. I didn't mind, " How do you figure?"

" you remember it clearly, right?"

" yeah."

" I remember playing that song clearly. It changed a lot for me."

" like what?"

" like..." he paused, frowning slightly, eyebrows pulling closer, " everything. It changed nearly everything." I probably shouldn't push.

I pushed, " come on now, elaborate."

He smiled slightly at my teasing tone, but that didn't stop him from potentially remember things he didn't want to remember, " Oh god Angel, I don't know. I guess I broke a little at that piano, like I finally let myself fully explain how I felt about my parents passing. I learned a lot about myself, and got a lot of things I had to figure out."

" It's all sorted now?" I asked.

" mostly."

" I'm pretty decent at sorting. want some help finishing up?" Another question. I gave his hand a squeeze. He squeezed back. It was all about the little victories with him, and getting a squeeze back felt like a pretty big little victory.

One of his Nick-smiles on his face, the one caused one of his eyes to squint just a tad, graced his features and said, " I would love that."

Twisting to face him, we started talking. It wasn't a conversation you could relay to people, because it wasn't one you particularly remembered how it went. It was certainly in my memory, i wouldn't forget it. I learned a lot about Nick in one sitting: He was still coping, doing good, but coping. It was hard to lose parents and know they couldn't come back, especially when you're a new teenager and you're kind of an ass to them. He was still figuring out who he wanted to be. I thought he knew; he didn't. He had ideas, sure, but he wasn't solid. I told him he could be everything if he wanted - He was definitely talented enough.

I think the most important thing I learned about Nick was: He was okay. Sure, he was trying to figure out how to keep himself that way sometimes, but he was. He didn't need medication, just himself and his music and apparently me. He liked life. He enjoyed breathing.

" hey Nick."

" Angel?"

I had his hand in both of mine now, holding it in my left and tracing shapes on it with my right pointer finger. Sometimes white marks would appear in the skin if I pressed too hard. I tried not to, " stay that way, okay? You're perfect, just as you are."

He smiled again, and I'd be lying if it I said it wasn't fantastic, " perfect is a stretch, but it's good to know I'm getting there."

He winked. I was head over heals for those moments when his eyelashes came together just briefly. head. over. heals.

---

" how many songs should be on our playlist?"

" um... six?"

" okay."

" why?"

Nick shrugged, " I don't know, I was curious. Six is a good number, since we'll be doing multiple of these."

" I agree." I replied.

We had taken a break, sitting at random places in the van as we wrote songs down on our list. I was almost done, finding six songs that I love and somewhat felt but probably not really. I never knew - they just made me move, and feel emotions, and that was the point. Nick clicked his pen shut, sticking in behind his ear expertly. Nick with a writer atmosphere around him was just as attractive and Nick with a music atmosphere. Then again, when wasn't Nick attractive? He could sob like a dying pig and still be immensely handsome.

" done!" he said, with a childish smile.

I wrote down my final song, " ditto. Trade?"

" trade."

We switched pieces of paper. I headed to the room to get my headphones and curl up on the bed. Nick had found himself laying on the couch, already shoving little ear buds into his ears. I bit my lip nervously, praying he liked them.

Looking away from Nick, I focused on the list. Each song had a little note, personalizing the list to a new extreme. It brought a small, curled smile to my lips:

1. Renegades - X Ambassadors

Reminds me of us. I can't really explain why, but it feels like we're on the run, together, and I couldn't enjoy it more Angel.

2. I Can Almost See You - Hammock

While creating this list, I figured it would help if you had some reasoning for the songs I picked. This one was from me, the deepest parts of me. It calms me whenever I'm upset or angry. That being said, it's very close to me, so... yeah.

3. Youth - Daughter

This song is basically my mindset as I grew up, after my parents passed. It's a good song. I remember first listening to it when I was pissed off at my grandmother and sitting in my room, wondering why all the shit I went through had to happen to me. I could relate to the song, so it stuck with me.

4. Dirty Water - Niva

Another one of those songs that I found later. It sits well with me, like a reminder that I've overcome what I've been, and what i've been through. I bet you'll learn a lot about me through these songs, Angel. I think you'll like them.

5. Silence - Tell No Foxx

This one's more recent. Even after everything, I still have my poor moments. This is my go to song, I can listen to it whenever I feel like the silence in my home is overbearing. If you're wondering, I blare my music because I hate when i'm alone. So I fill the gaps with something I like. Sorry if it annoyed you, occupational hazard.

6. Answer - Thirteen Senses

I have no deep meaning for this song. It's just awesome. period.

bonus track: Best I ever Had - Vertical Horizon

Okay Angel, story time. When you said six songs, I realized I had to go over your limit by just one. I know we can both relate to this song. When I had just lost my parents, I listened to this. It used to be their favorite song, they'd sway to it together, wrapped up in each other's arms. It was really cute. Anyway, I listened to this song not long after they passed, and it hit me really hard. Still makes me a bit teary today, honestly. Alright, that's all my songs.

I listened to them all consecutively. I could tell it didn't bother Nick; the whole while he had his own earphones it, staring at his phone, sometimes smiling, sometimes closing his eyes and bowing his head a little and becoming part of the song I had told him to listen to. The first one made me smile; it did remind me of us.

We were too just-recently adults, cooped up in a decked out mini-van with nothing but Nick's awesome cooking and my irritable personality, not really going anywhere and not really wanting to go back, together. Did that count as running away? technically we weren't running from anything, and technically we were going back. Still, the song felt extremely reflective of us. It didn't take me long to pull up iTunes and add it to my playlist. I think I added all his songs, honestly.

The second song felt like an emotional slap to the face. There weren't any obvious lyrics - the song said 'see' a lot in a bunch of different tranquil tones that made my ears hum with approval - but it didn't need words. The songs all laced together perfectly, floating into my bloodstream and clogging up my heart. I sunk down on the mattress, curling a bit closer to myself because I could listen to those sounds forever. It was so smooth, so relaxing, so atmospheric, it made me want to melt. I could see how he'd listen to this.

The third, fourth, and fifth songs felt a bit more personal, even if they all had their deep meanings. My skin tingled as I listened, focusing in heavily on the lyrics to try to capture the pieces of Nick scattered within it's shape. There were a lot of fragments. Every single one of them struck home, making my heart clench and loosen. Little Nick would listen to those songs, letting them say what he couldn't at the time. That was hard for me, thinking that he was alone for some period in his life. Nick never seemed to be alone - then again, I wouldn't know. The fifth song felt extremely tense, because it was related to the present. He didn't like the silence, so he filled it with sounds that could puff up next to his brain and make him think about things other than what the quiet handed him. It was difficult for me to listen to, but I added it anyway.