A/N: Sorry to those of you who are waiting for the next chapter of Phoenix, I was working on it! really! well, wrestling it and trying to beat it into submission is a more accurate description, but sometime around four in the morning, this just happened (sweatdrop.) It was in my head and just kinda came spilling out. Just a cute little ficlet and some musings on Joey. I always liked Mai and thought it was such a shame that she left for the final time without even giving him her number :p Anyways . . . Enjoy XD
She drove.
Like she always did when something bothered her.
It cleared her head, helped her think.
Why was she driving anyways?
For some reason, this time, it felt like she was running from something.
Maybe she was just being stupid.
It certainly wouldn't be the first time.
What did she possibly have to be afraid of?
She knew nothing was chasing her, out to get her.
So why did she keep running? Why didn't she just stop . . .
She rolled down the window, the car suddenly seemed stuffy, but rolled it back up again just as quick when her blond hair began to flutter into her face.
Pretty blond hair, the same color as his, only his was an unruly mop that he was continuously pushing back from hazel eyes.
They were warm eyes . . . like his smile . . .
Damn it. She turned up the radio to drown out her own thoughts.
I didn't help.
The song wasn't even related to anything but it still reminded her of him.
Something about the singer's voice . . . and the passion he poured into the song . . .
She finally gave in and let herself muse on the forbidden subject.
Something about the song was just so Joey.
He was so different.
He had cared about her,
Really cared.
No one had ever shown so much concern, so much interest,
In her.
And he adored her.
Adoration, at least, wasn't so foreign a concept.
Others had adored her.
And she had let them, always using it to her advantage.
She didn't mind being alone but sometimes company for brief periods was nice.
They had never lasted though and she had never wanted them to.
Shit, but even the way he adored her was different.
Maybe that's why she was so scared.
Why she kept moving.
She was scared that if she stopped it would be for good.
That she would fall and never recover.
But would that really be so bad?
She blinked, taken by surprise at the warmth of the thought.
Or maybe that was it,
Maybe it was too late,
Perhaps she had fallen already
. . . and was just afraid to admit it.