#sevenscns

during the work week it’s typically grab a car. switch the plates. dump the car and then he heads home. or to the nearest bar. waits until he gets his next assignment. eats a bowl of cereal. rinse and repeat. so he gets a decent stack at the end of the week when the money comes. he rarely has time to steal cars for the sheer pleasure of it these days. but the rush is the same. he shows up at her place first. because if anyone could appreciate the beauty of what he’s managed to steal – she could. reaching over he unlocks the door pushing it open. “ bmw 507. can hardly even find them in black anymore. get in. let’s go.” it’s not even a question. she wants to ride. he wants to drive. he’s all smiles. “take you wherever you wanna go beautiful.”

always the driver, but never the passenger. if her best friend found out about her going for another ride, she’s never going to hear the end of it. but momo is defiant, not to mention thrilled. because, for once, someone else is pushing their foot against the accelerator. there’s no one there to catch her tonight, the repair shop below her unit having closed hours before her ride arrived. she gasps at the sight, eyes twinkling - in awe and anticipation. she doesn’t bother bringing a jacket, wants to watch her fingers turn blue from the chill night air. once the door opens, she slips into the passenger’s seat, doesn’t bother with a seat belt, although, by now, she should have learned her lesson.

“this is fucking gorgeous. you never disappoint.” there’s a place she always speeds through at night, when the streets are empty. it’s a habit she does before anything else. “the underpass,” she starts, offering the male a grin that could compete with the city lights. “with the creepy lighting. you know the one. it’s the only one.”