Chapter Text
You were walking back home, exhausted from a normal day. You pondered what to make for dinner with what you remembered having in your food closet and fridge as you searched for your keys.
You felt a gaze. Fixated and predatory. You immediately thought that this had to be a weirdo that followed you on your way home. Not that it mattered, since you managed to quickly enter the safety of your house.
Maybe a soup? There has to be some reasonably stale bread that could go nicely with it when dipped. And maybe something crispy with the air fryer? You clearly didn't want to spend too much time cooking. Instead, you just wanted to relax and partake in your hobbies in peace. You hummed a tune to yourself realizing it was the weekend as you undressed, readying yourself for a well-earned shower.
You were silently assessing your naked form in the bathroom mirror, until you heard somewhere behind you the dull clank of a small object hitting the lino flooring. In normal circumstances you'd be prompt to ignore the noise, but now you were extremely alert, guts sinking and all. You remembered the damn weirdo, bracing yourself for the worse. Oh No. What if you forgot once again to close the window in your bedroom, because of this one cute street cat that visits you every now and then? You lived in a pretty alright area—or so you thought—and you didn't really had anything expensive in your possession which could make a potential thief happy to visit, hence your rather… careless habit. You couldn't help the anxiety despite your best attempts at reassuring yourself. So you quickly put back your panties, which still had their moderately bloody hygienic pad stuck to them, and a plain black shirt that laid on top of the dirty pile. You didn't care that much, but still cared enough to be found at least modest if the worst were to come.
There was no anticipation. As soon as you stepped out of the bathroom, a tall form lunged at you and forced you back in, making you fall to the floor, thankfully with your back hitting it first. In the moment, you screamed with a voice you didn't know you had, and fought back using what newfound strength the adrenaline rush could provide. You needed to get up fast and run, you sensed claws gripping you and a strange texture trying to wrap you, please let me go, your legs managed to wiggle between you two, and you pushed the thing back, making it collide somewhere you couldn't care less about.
You rushed to your bedroom where your phone was, but to no avail. The creature was faster, quickly closing the distance with a shrill hiss, attaching itself to your back. You lost balance and found yourself hitting the floor again, this time flat on your stomach. You felt yourself almost losing consciousness right there and then, but this was quickly negated by the fact that this position made you terribly aware that you might have a few ribs broken from the crushing landings you suffered. No, not yet, not like this. You crawled inside your bedroom to reach for anything that could be used as a weapon. Nothing in your vision. You opted to use the momentum you’d get from rolling to switch positions and hopefully get it off your back, except the creature was terribly heavy and seemingly determined to stop you from doing anything to keep it away from its goal. Your limbs were rendered useless by its claws and tendrils crawling into the skin layer, just above the muscle tissue, through the dermis, all the way to the tip of your fingers. It felt like having an additional set of veins. Your stomach threatened to go up your throat at the sight and sensation. Maybe it already had.
When it started to paw at your inner legs—after thoroughly investigating and confirming that you had no will to fight anymore—you felt there what you assumed was a... mouth? Mandibles? What is this? It's hard and a bit spiky with sparse hairs that gave you the itch. Whatever it was, it wanted to eat? Kill? The smell of your blood was enticing it tremendously judging from the eerie rumbling. You simply froze, too stunned to even scream in horror, and chose to accept your fate.
It scared you to no end that you couldn't even get a proper look at it. You were definitely not the ‘monsterfucker’ you thought you were. The entire point of the fetish was that these things weren't supposed to exist in the first place. So you started to pray that the display of violence this creature enacted on you was a thing of the past, and that it would move on to being nice to you if you played nice.
Which it did. Technically. Because you felt a needle being stung deep into your neck and the clear sloshing of a concerning amount of liquid being spurted through it to join your bloodstream. You weren't sure if it was healing you, but you sure felt the instant relief. A blissful numbness. You also went totally limp—which was arguably more concerning—ensuring your total submission throughout your upcoming supplice.
The tendrils were cold and pulsating all over you, they held you like a full body armor and handled you in a calculated manner as you would with a fragile ball jointed doll. They turned you around to finally face its numerous globulous, uneven purple eyes.
We desire and We propagate His will.
Now that's kind of cliche, of course the insectoid creature wanted to breed. You suspected that the liquid circulating in your body also made you unnaturally jaded, and you knew you get a bit funny when in that mood, which sucked because you couldn’t even stand your odd sense of humor at the moment. You didn't even question how the hell you could magically translate the clicking and frictions its mandibles were making into words. You didn't question its appearance either, as it felt like greeting a family relative you met long ago.
The creature ripped your panties away and plunged what you assumed was—for your own lack of known equivalent—its bulbous penis, in your most precious place with little to no resistance. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, mostly by reflex, rather than actual shock. It dawned on you that you just lost your virginity, as you didn't remember ever having penetrative sex with anyone else before until now, and you couldn't even feel a twinge of uncomfortable stretch. Absolutely no pain. And maybe this was for the best. Or maybe you were actually dying and this was your body's last mercy on you. Quite the little death. You almost let out a giggle.
Fitting and satisfactory, We will contribute to His glory.
It kept going relentlessly without pause, making sure that you would be properly assimilated. It was careful too, eerily so. How much time passed you, didn't know, but it was probably long enough that you realized you were starting to enjoy the sensation of being so full of... stuff? You might actually be the freak you thought you were. Each time you'd think the creature would cease, it resumed earnestly with a low growl, determined to breed you. There were definitely other things getting pushed alongside a copious amount of slick, way deeper than a human should bear to withstand, but you simply chose not to think about it for now.
So you settled on looking around instead, leaving the creature to its vile activities on your body. Because that was all you could do anyway, alongside listening to its strange musings. They were beginning to make sense too. Becoming one. Vague glimpses of servitude, a mirage of subjugation, the full picture still eluding you nonetheless.
You were just at the end of your own bed, on the left side was the accursed open window, stupid idiot, and you acknowledged that the sunset was about to die. A cloudless, beautiful golden gradient soon to be dark. And perhaps this innocent musing gave you a surge of sadness as you hiccuped a sob. You broke into tears. You were more attached to life than you thought you were, after all. You didn't want to die. You considered calling for help, since the creature didn't cover your mouth. Surely the neighbors must have heard the commotion from earlier, but even then, who would step in when faced with this? You looked down at your swollen belly, you should’ve felt terrified but you weren’t. No one would approach you, you’re forever tainted, and yet the sense of security and purpose this creature filled you with gave you pause. You could be part of something greater. This was what you were made for. Maybe this was Love.
You should just give up and let yourself be consumed.
Was what you concluded, when loud exploding sounds deafened everything passing through your surprisingly still coherent brain.
It hurts it hurts it hurts it huRts iT HuRtS IT HURTS.
The creature on top of you exploded in a bloody mess and you were already grieving for its death and absence. Some motion came back to you as soon as the dark tendrils melted, so you lost no time getting on all fours to crawl toward the remains of your tormentor, forgiving it for how it deformed you, how dare you, why WHY, the pain was back, you were suffering and fully sobbing and you needed to call, not for help anymore, but for another one of them to complete you.
"Let's not do that, okay?"
A man's voice came from the left, he entered through the window as well it seemed. He saw you. You're finished, aren't you? He's going to kill you as well, isn't he? Just like how he killed your monster with whatever he just used.
You tried to beg for mercy but your entire body suddenly shut down before you could even look past his knees.
Darkness.
~*~*~*~*~*~
You woke up. You're alive, alive. You attempted to blink your heavy eyelids, but everything was kinda blurry still and wobbly. You tried to check if you could move at all.
“Stay still."
A confused ‘whuh’ was all your eloquent self could muster.
Not that the other individual was helpful either.
Wait.
Who?
Panic surged through you, rising up your spine. You began doing the exact opposite from his single instruction, which the individual promptly stopped. Firm hands, pressed your shoulders down, keeping you in place.
"Just breathe. And stay still. Don't make me repeat myself again."
So the agony seemingly would continue. You wished you hadn't woken up. Or wished that it'd all been a bad dream. However, you did remember something terrible just happened to you, and you knew exactly what transpired in vivid details, so you simply started crying again, stifling your sobs as you were once again made aware that your entire body was still in so much pain, as well as your heart was deeply broken. And now this unknown man was going to take advantage of you. Fine. Sure. It's not like you could fight back anyway. You refused to even look at him. Whatever with your life.
"I'm going to remove what this demon put in you."
Creature, monster, giant insect, demon. Same difference. Nothing will probably ever surprise you anymore at this point.
Before you could mentally complain further, you felt a leathery gloved hand gingerly prod at your violated place. He's tugging at the alien presence that remained at the entrance, it was throbbing still, you couldn't even bring yourself to name what it was. "Ngh!" It hurts! It left you with a disgusting wet squelch, quickly followed by the sensation of goop forming a puddle there. You tried to tolerate the man's touch to the best of your ability, your body rigid paired with shallow breaths, telling yourself that he ought to know what he's doing and that he might be trying to help, as incomprehensible as it sounded, because who would even bear to look at you anymore? You already didn't have the greatest self esteem but these new events in your life might just do you in.
"I need you to relax, you don't want to be in further pain in your current state." … Fair point.
The man proceeded on rubbing your clit with two digits. Aah, so you're too stiff to his liking and he thought that doing proper foreplay will make you comply. This was terminally humiliating, enough so to make you consider that the demon wasn't so bad in hindsight, and what a crazy thing to admit, when he quite literally saved you from being part of a hivemind. And you were even happy to join, too. It wouldn't be a stretch to have a look into your brain and declare you clinically insane.
… Why was this man being so damn gentle for, anyway? You didn't exactly know what to make of it. Why would he care? What was he getting out of this? Was doing this getting him off in some way? Freak. Whatever the case, he had yet to make any mockery of your current state—but surely he was doing so internally. You'd have to gauge his expression to determine whether or not he's actually safe. He sounded… very pleasant to listen to at least. And his presence wasn't particularly threatening judging by the tone he was using, just… inflexible.
Maybe... maybe you could take a look?
Which you did, and tentatively so because maybe you'd wake up and he would disappear and you'd be left alone and cold and dirty and dying.
You audibly gasped at the sight. He had ethereal white hair delicately curtaining his right eye, length reaching a perfect jawline. He wore a red velvet coat with black leather perfectly tailored to his imposing yet elegant frame; accented by metal buckles and zipper open to the tantalizing sight of his collar bones, all tastefully held together by a chest strap. His piercing light teal colored eyes—you swore could be glowing even in the dark—adorned his sharp face features that showed clear focus on the task at hand, which was between your legs. Hold on, you needed to repeat that to yourself, there was a beautiful vampiric-looking prince between your legs. Touching you there. And seemingly trying to help you. This had to be a dream after all, and you were already dead. Or this was Hell, and he was the personified testament of your sins to which you will be judged for indulging in them at a later notice.
He made eye contact with you. Oh no, if you weren't so hurt you'd probably blush, or maybe you already were despite what little blood you supposed you had left. You couldn't help but look away in shame, as if you saw something you weren't allowed to. Instant crush. A coup de foudre. You knew yourself to easily catch feelings but oh this is so embarrassing. Your chest hurts. Damned broken ribs.
"I gotta say, that's quite the will to live." He said, continuing his ministrations. This was starting to feel kinda nice. How mortifyingly thrilling. "Most would have turned just a few minutes after the initial injection, I'm impressed."
And now he's gotten talkative and he even sounded amicable. He totally knows. This guy was aware of his charms. This was potentially the worst outcome ever. And you hated that this was doing wonders to your suffering heart. He's absolutely your type.
You mustered a shy ‘hm’ as an answer. You felt terribly self-aware of how broken it sounded.
"Like I said a bit earlier, I need to get these," He showed you a smooth and shiny black, purplish... cocoon? Egg? It's about the size of a whopper marble. "out of you. Preferably sooner than later because they hatch fast in a bleeding womb and we both don't want that to happen, trust me."
Okay great, all that relaxation you managed to gather during your pink-tinted vision instantly went ‘poof’ alongside the floating rose blossoms. Your breathing gradually neared hyperventilation. Damn, it hurts, were your lungs punctured?
The man went to sit closer to you on your right and you noted the dip of his weight into the mattress—you just realized that he deposited you on your bed—then even more surprisingly so, he started petting you gently on the head. "Hey now, poor thing, we still have time, so don't start stressing on me or I might get nervous too, hm?" He said with a disarming smile.
It was almost funny how easily he managed to de-escalate your panic attack. You supposed that's because you owed him your life from now on. He smells so strange. Well. Apparently, said life was still on the line considering your current predicament, so you’d better cooperate. You had decided to trust him and did your best at controlling your air intake.
"Stay still for me." His left hand went for your swollen belly, carefully massaging it in regular, downward motions to coax the eggs out so that he could reach for them with his other hand. You noted that he’d removed his right glove at some point. "Don't try to push them out by yourself or you'll get hurt. I've got you."
Please don't be so nice to me or I'll truly fall in love, was what you were telling yourself, hopefully internally. Whether or not the man heard that, he didn't comment on it.
He fingered you slowly and methodically, he wasn’t really trying to get you off. You could hear some wet pops as the eggs slid out of you. You did your best to stay as quiet as possible, but couldn't hold back the soft mewls whenever he gave you a particularly well placed press inside. To which the man once again didn't comment on, nor seemed to react to.
You were literally dying and positively horny, this was totally awakening something in you. And he's actively ignoring the mess he's making out of you. No, idiot, you're the one making it inappropriate. He was giving you life-saving care, and all you're thinking about was how much you wanted to orgasm on his fingers, while telling yourself that you're being so good for him and so brave, you're so close in fact, if only he went just a bit faster and a bit harder, please, please, please, mister.
"Dante. The name's Dante, sweetie." He answered plainly with a light smirk and a small non-judgemental chuckle.
You needed to bury yourself in the grave you belonged to, right now. You and your damned loud lustful thoughts.
"There's just a few more left.” How can he stay so calm? “Listen, how about I indulge you when I'm done? As a reward for being well-behaved."
You nodded, maybe a bit too eagerly because he once again chuckled at your reaction, and even called you 'cute'. He's out for your poor tattered heart.
Dante. You tried his name, this time being extremely careful as to keep it in your head. Dante. Mister Dante. He continued to massage your womb as you obsessively repeated his name each time you felt his fingers brushing that sweet spot inside of you, trying to fish out the last eggs.
A few more pops and now it was just your slick remaining it seemed. Dante examined your belly a few more times, making sure that it was all empty, and part of you wished the demon laid more eggs so that this moment with this beautiful man lasted a bit longer.
"All good, I think. What says our sweetie?" He flashed you a ravaging smile, making you contemplate that even Lucifer's wouldn't compare. He threw the last egg behind him in a random corner of your room. You caught a glance of his entire right hand, all red from your period, you felt very light headed and so frustrated and so very empty. You needed this man in ways you didn't know you could ever desire someone. Hell, he might even be a demon too. No normal human wouldn't bat an eye at the horrors witnessed under your roof. Yet, you also really didn't care at the moment. You wanted him so much.
"P-please, mister, Dante, sir."
He blinked at you in mild amusement, raising an eyebrow. Quite polite you were, indeed.
"Please what, sweetie? What do you need?" Oh he's so annoying, the crush you have for this man will be the actual cause of your death.
Begging, you could do that. "I need to… Please, I-" Your entire face got awfully hot with embarrassment. Say it. Don't ruin this for yourself. "I need to come please, mister Dante. I can't take it anymore, please-ah!"
Dante promptly resumed fingering you, setting a reasonable pace with the same bloodied hand he used to remove the eggs, this time while also purposefully squishing your clit with his thumb. He watched you with playful endearment, like you were a cat in heat that he had to deal with. It was blatantly obvious this was a one-sided arrangement in the emotional department, which you begrudgingly tried to make peace with. You could at least enjoy the feeling, despite his tugs at your heartstrings.
What possessed him to get even closer to you, you couldn't guess, but you saw him removing his remaining glove by a fingertip with his teeth, then laid his hand on your cheek, it's warm, cupping it. The strange fragrance you smelled from him earlier was even stronger, it's numbing your brain. He shoved two fingers, middle and ring, into your mouth. You immediately started to suckle on them reflexively without resistance. They tasted like salt, iron and leather and this addicting smell. You couldn’t think rationally, but it seemed that Dante was still watching you with rapt attention, like he's expecting results from you. You could be overthinking it, too. Regardless, he never stopped rolling his dexterous fingers, and went faster. And harder.
"You're getting tighter, sweetheart. You're close aren't you?"
You nodded, "Mmh." You're a drooling mess. You wished he'd kiss you, but that would be too greedy wouldn’t it?
"Don't look away, you're doing so well."
This was too much, Dante, Dante, mister Dante, your climax rushed over you in powerful waves, but he didn’t stop just yet. Instead, Dante kept massaging your walls, gradually slowing down. "That's it, just like that." Fresh tears streamed down your cheeks, joining the pillow he carefully placed behind your head much earlier. You're longing for something more, still languidly rolling your tongue unskillfully between his fingers like how you'd kiss him, which he both slid away when he deemed that was quite enough. Don't leave me, please. You thought or said, hell, you just didn't want to be alone. You're afraid of what's to come but before you could continue your infernal bemoaning, you were interrupted by the sight of Dante bringing his right hand to his own mouth, what is he doing? He tasted your blood and juices with a singular lick, humming to himself, deep in thoughts while savoring whatever he's just discovered.
Dante, was perplexing. This was what you settled for, regarding his entire presence and existence.
"My turn to be indulged," What? Your heart jumped with anticipation. Full of hope. "I want you to do me a favor and do the same as I just did, here." Huh? Is he…? He's waving his bloody hand, ohh. "You're going to drink some of my blood, sweetheart." His striking blue eyes were as locked on yours as they were unreadable. He wiped his hand on your ruined covers. You awkwardly deflated with disappointment.
Was he actually looking at you? You wondered. His demand didn't sound like a proposition, nor felt like an immutable order. He was still going to do it regardless of your approval.
You wanted to ask some questions first but before you could even form one, you saw Dante producing a small ornate knife. You couldn't catch where it came from, it looked expensive. Then he pressed it on the pad of his left index, deeply—it might even have reached the bone—yet this didn't seem to be painful judging from his deadpan expression. He offered his dripping wound to you, "Open-up." knowing that you were going to accept. You did, of course. As you could no longer ignore the fact that his blood was the actual source of this wonderful scent.
As soon as contact was made, your entire body felt electrified, his blood felt like a thunderbolt coursing through each of your taste buds up to your brain then down your whole nervous system. You needed this, more of it, give me more, you sucked on Dante's fingertip like it's the tastiest, sweetest, treat in the world and before you knew it you were up on your knees grasping at his hand with both of yours, like a drunkard given their last chance to take a swig at their beloved booze, moaning in pure bliss as each precious droplet seeped down your throat. Your own injuries mattered no longer. This, was your true salvation. You simply knew that his blood, his power, was what you required to gain the favor of The Prince…? What the hell? You really couldn’t think at the moment, you just knew that you needed a bit more. Your vision was spiraling until it stabilized on his neck, then it lowered to the mouthwatering dip of his chest, get closer, get more.
You didn't notice the scowling look you were receiving, that you surely didn't, because Dante abruptly pinned you back into the mattress keeping your hands up by the wrists with the one you were suckling onto. He wasn't bleeding anymore. You could feel his breath feathering your sweating skin.
Did you offend him? Fear pooled in your stomach. You were acting like a feral beast for a moment, weren’t you. Shame flushed your entire torso and face. You needed to apologize. Fast. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Mister Dante please, I-"
"Cut that out." You recoiled like you're about to get hit. "It's just as I thought." Wait, he sounded… concerned? He glanced at the area on your neck where you remembered being stung. "Listen well, sweetheart. You're gonna have to stay put for a bit." He momentarily went silent, visibly considering options secret to you. You're holding your breath, too afraid to anger him any further. "Actually nevermind that. You'll follow me to my shop, and we'll discuss your situation there."
Huh?
From one second to the next, you were carried bridal style and asked where your bathroom was. …Right. The shocking nature of the situation was nullified by the fact that you're a naked mess covered in various, now drying liquids, most of them from an unidentified demonic source, and the rest from your own very broken self. You did need to get cleaned up.
You timidly pointed him around your house with a finger. This was the closest you've been to him and the next closest thing to the hug you've been yearning for. He's so warm you could fall asleep right there and then.
Dante deposited you carefully in your bathtub like you would shatter otherwise and turned on the shower head, too hot, he took notice and adjusted the water for you. You didn't really expect him to stay but he did. It could be because you currently looked like a trembling abused pet. He must have been pitying you. He had to. It's painful to think that you didn’t actually mean anything significant to him, when you're there, quite definitely set on the fact that you’ll be permanently lovesick for this man for the rest of your life.
Dante rolled his sleeves, you didn't pay attention earlier but in the light of the bathroom it was clear that this wasn't a hand crease, but actually a horizontal scar in the middle of his left palm. It looked recent.
He picked up your shampoo and squeezed an adequate amount on the top of your head, wasting no time scrubbing through your hair. Just like earlier between your legs, it was efficient and methodical. You idly thought that he might be used to doing this. What a queer idea. Dante didn't seem like the type of man to give this kind of service on the regular, yet again he's perplexing and unpredictable. You didn’t know him, you probably never will.
"…Thank you." For saving me, for taking care of me, for being so kind, for, for,
"Hm. Don't mention it. I have my reasons." He said with a thin smile, not meeting your eyes back this time. He's busy getting your loofah by the sink. You didn't know how to parse his expression.
Aah it hurts.
As Dante washed the rest of your body, with a lot of cooperation from your side—though he let you clean yourself down there on your own—you mentally numbered the various scratches and bruises that were inflicted to you in the places you could see. Your ribs also strangely didn't hurt as much as before. No more dark veins. There was no particular tenderness in his actions, but you still pretended anyway. Selfishly. Greedily. Desperately grasping at any hint of fantasized affection this man could be withholding from you. No red tint on his cheeks, no spiked up breathing, no blown pupils, nothing. Nothing.
“Done.” Dante pulled a fresh towel and unceremoniously dropped it on you. "Dry yourself up and grab some change of clothes for a few days. I'll wait in the next room."
You remained on the bathtub floor as he exited the bathroom. You brought your legs to your chest for comfort, shivering a bit while observing the last bit of clear water being flushed down the drain. You're alone, he's left you. You’re dramatizing. You repeated his earlier words in your head. You can follow him, he expects you to. Get up. Don't waste his patience.
You dragged your body out of the tub with feeble arms and legs. The exhaustion was finally getting to you, but you had no time to lose, you ruffled your hair to an acceptable degree of dryness with the towel, grabbed new panties—no longer bleeding there. Odd.— then chose comfortable clothes and gathered in a bag enough to maybe last a week. You needed to fetch your phone and charger too. Take some hygienic pads just in case. Your keys. Some money? Painkillers. Shouldn't you give a call to notify you won't be available for a while? Message your friends? Call the police? Actually fuck that last thing, you audibly snickered.
Coming back to your bedroom really made you aware how horrific the events you just went through were. Claw marks were speckled on both floor and furniture. Your bed was covered in dark red goop. On your left by the door you saw a pile of sludgy melted eggs, and on your right, the same kind of viscous mess, it must be… you didn't want to look at it anymore. Then a bit further to the right still, you let out a relieved sigh you didn't know you were keeping when you saw that Dante was there by the window, petting the cat—he’d put his gloves back on—that sometimes visited you. She meowed when she noticed you, losing all interest for the man, and jumped inside, clearly unbothered by the hellish state of the room, but still avoided anything that could dirty her paws, to rub her body against your calf.
"It seems that she's worried for you." He stated. You sensed some fondness in his tone. Your delusion filter was still on apparently.
"Perhaps. She never came inside before." She let herself get picked up with a soft 'meow'. You passed by Dante to place her back on the window's frame. "I won't come back for a bit, okay? Go kitty." The cat bumped her head on your hand with authority, demanding goodbye pets. You stroked her a few times and she gracefully left to disappear in the shadows. You closed the window shut.
"Ready?"
"… Almost. I just need to get a few more things from this room."
With your bag completed, you lead Dante toward the entrance of your house. The air outside wasn’t that cold, the breeze gave you chills regardless, your hair was still moist after all.
As you stepped outside you noticed a driverless motorcycle rumble toward your direction. The phenomenon was so dumbfounding and ridiculously cool, you simply turned to the only potential culprit, absolutely sure that this had to be something related to him. Dante walked to the front and straddled the engine effortlessly. Long legs. You guessed right.
"Hop on, sweetheart. And don't fall." How did he manage to be so sexy saying that? This is so cliché.
In contrast, you almost fell trying to mount, but Dante, the ever so attentive gentleman, grabbed your wrist and helped you behind him. You're grasping at him like he's your lifeline.
"Are you hungry, by the way?"
The question came out of nowhere but it's such a vital one to ask.
"I'm starving." You really were.
"Right on. Let's go get some pizza."
You both drove into the night.