Part 2

 “We’re almost there!”

There’s that grin again, like an alley cat that's finally caught sight of its prey. 

(The quickly fading sunlight glints off her smiling cheeks like a roving spotlight, like a camera flash, making her face dazzle for one brief moment.)

I’m seeing spots. 

“Good,” I manage to choke out.

A worried glance in my direction, then her eyes snap back to the road.

“You okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine.”

Except my mind is whirling and I can’t feel my nose and there’s a splitting pain in the center of my forehead that makes me wanna puke —

A quiet sigh. And now a hand on my shoulder.

“You know, we don’t have to do this. If it’s too much for you. I don’t want to do anything that’s going to get you hurt.”

This last bit pierces me, but she doesn’t need to know how deep. It isn’t her fault. She doesn’t have anything to do with any of this. And she is trying. So I’m going to try for her.

I sit up a little, making sure to catch her eye, and give her a smile as sincere as I can muster. 

“I’m fine. I promise. Great, even. Glad we’re finally getting to the bottom of all this.”

She smiles back, relieved (easily placated, typical), and the hand still on my shoulder gives a little squeeze.

“You are great.”

With her face relaxed like this, no wolfish grin, no brow furrowed in concern, I am reminded of how beautiful she is. Like, objectively, undeniably beautiful. The dying light is in front of us now, and her features are softened by it’s warm glow. Enveloped in a golden haze. The tender note in her voice finally reaches my ears and I feel myself blush.

(A soft breeze like the rustle of an angel’s wings slips in through the cracked window, overtakes me. Smells of lavender.)

It’s not until I manage to pry my eyes away that I realize my headache is gone.