oo1: passenger seat

karierte

'One of us gets to drive; one of us gets to think' – Jimmy Eat World, Always Be

I'm doing this for me.

Matt thinks I'm revenging L or some shit like that, that I must've had too much vodka to give up my tenacious hold on the steering wheel, but really…I'm just feeling introspective. I have alcohol instead of blood tonight and it's burning through my veins, making me feel.

We don't need to talk; he and I.

He thinks he's got me all figured out now, now that I called and he came. I let him. He'll die for me, if I let him. Fool.

I can see the end of his cigarette smile, all soft amber light and pale grey ash dripping into his lap, with the backdrop of the Los Angeles cityscape. I shift in my seat, and the leather squeaks disinterestingly. No words.

The sky is a starless ocean, with lamppost beacons beckoning us home, and just on the horizon I can discern the finish line, the very end of everything.

I want to be first. And I'll do it for me, for the satisfaction of standing above the world and knowing I'm the superlative ('of the highest kind, quality, or order; surpassing all else or others; supreme') over all else, because no one else deserves it more.

A/N

So, this is my Mello practice! This drabble is dedicated to Haku'sBest13, and I hope she'll enjoy it--thank you very much for all of your constructive reviews for my stories. I have several more of these drabbles waiting to come out, and this will be updated fairly regularly, each drabble with a different theme and dedication. Feedback is appreciated~