followups: by manual. (—0091.)
daniel molloy. ([personal profile] followups) wrote 2024-08-08 02:17 am (UTC)

You know.

Though there have been revelations in every room they've been in together.

Armand likes driving, he says. Armand also probably likes pulling wings off of songbirds and slowly peeling tech bros like over-ripe mangoes (difficult, slippery, rewarding; the kind of fiddly thing detail-oriented Armand would excel at, in Daniel's mind). A few bucks for the coffee and outside, Daniel tosses his car keys at

his maker

without warning.

"US and UAE licenses are co-valid, but I'm sure you know that. Don't run us into a tree if it turns out you've been chauffeured since the invention of the automobile, please."

This is real stupid. He gets into the passenger seat (always weird, in your own car), hitches it back a little further since he had it cranked up to move a body in the back (don't ask). It smells like car cleaner and faint cigarette smoke (he always has the windows down if he has one in here), blood, his cologne. Daniel can afford a better car by now, but it's such a pain in the ass and this one's perfectly fine.

Is this where Armand finds a bridge to drive them off?

"The drive back from Vancouver was nice," he says, as the diner vanishes behind them. (Vancouver, where he murdered someone to please Armand.) "I hadn't done anything cross-country since the 80s."

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