#hovnds

                 “alright, but if you’re telling me he did it, then i believe you.                   if you’re saying that you did it, not so much. him━ yeah,                   him i believe.”

the revving of the motorcycle is a riotous sound in a idyllic town of beacon hills. it’s a sound that kira is all too familiar with. during the night, the streets belong to them so that they might help innocent bystanders. & during the day the looked nothing like a bunch of misfits. & looks are deceiving: strands of sable to teal blend in with midnight blue locks. while her pale arms tell inked stories of foxes & lightning to smoky wisps of fire (this isn’t all of it). kira discovers her niche in the mccall pack. & she finds tenderness in the boy with chestnut orbs who’s sweetness makes her heart beat a little faster. he accepts her & she knows her place is by his side while helping others out. her lone wolf days in the beginning are over.  her arms link around his waist while she gazes at the buildings that are going by like blurry film. she feels alive in these moments where they scope around with these others. they could make a change. it seems like they’re zooming through until it’s a — halt, an abrupt stop. ❝what’s wrong ?❞ could it be a portent of trouble or was it something else?