Sunny

The sun was burning, blazing bright in the sky. The clouds that had covered the sky in the morning had all but vanished as the sun climbed higher and higher into the sky, until it was nearly at it’s apex. Aspen squinted, even with her sunglasses the day was blindingly bright. The rings that encircled the world, now arching across the right side of the sky, were dazzling as well. It forced Aspen to tilt her head and look at a certain spot in the sky that was gracefully spared from the sun’s assault on her sight. Even with the passenger sun-visor flipped down, it was as if she had fixed a flooded levee by putting three more sandbags in place while water gushed around the sides.

She quietly groaned in displeasure as the gentle turning of the car vanquished the safe spot that she had taken to looking at to keep her eyes from burning in her sockets. She rolled her head about her shoulders, and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Aspen glanced backwards at the back seat, enviously wishing that she was Rena right now, sprawled about with her long legs outstretched in pure, ignorant bliss. Aspen wondered if perhaps the next time they stopped, she could convince the giant cat to surrender her spot so that Aspen could lie down and take a long nap as well. She banished the thought as soon as she created it however, as Rena could not fit in the passenger seat. It would also be problematic if a passing driver had their gaze wander only to be face-to-face with a leopard.

Aspen sank a bit more in her seat, making her unhappiness more apparent as the man that had been crooning out a painful-to-listen to country song on the radio was replaced by one of his peers. She knew that a long time ago, Farran had been made aware to her sheer dislike for the genre, but he was obstinate in the selection of the channel. If he gave any indication that he cared for her recent grumblings, he didn’t show it. She glanced at him, though he looked the same as he did the last time she felt her eyes wander over to him. (Approximately two-ten-and-three minutes ago, if the clock on the console in the center of the dashboard was correct.)

She straightened her posture some, to at least put some relief on her aching shoulders, but felt her eyes drift right back over to him. 

“If he says anything, I’ll say it’s the only spot where the sun isn’t attempting to make my eyes blister.” She thought, though the excuse was pitiful, even to her standards. He would never take it, and if he did, he’d give her an odd look and not say anything in response.

But it was the truth however. Another turn and the entire landscape was lit up in blinding light, so Aspen took it upon herself to count all the knots and tangles in his hair. A harder task than she had thought, as she found herself having to start herself back at zero because she spent too much time deliberating whether something was a tangle or not. 

“Not with an “en” at the front, not a capital “kay” She nearly laughed to herself at the thought, but the aching in her legs at sucked all the humor out of her and replaced it with the sour attitude. She turned the thought over in her head a few times however (“Not...knot...not.  Is not a real word?) and found that she had lost track of her count again.

“You alright?” Farran said abruptly, before Aspen could resume her count. He had taken his eyes off the road for a moment to stare back at her, no doubt wondering why she was staring at the side of his head for nearly ten minutes. He glanced back and his eyes slightly widened as he jerked the wheel to the side in a controlled motion to avoid coming too close to a stopped car on the shoulder.

“No,” she grumped. The song on the radio changed from the man crooning to a woman bemoaning about how she was going to kill her cheating husband. Aspen sent it a glare that she hoped the radio would wither under if it could see it.

Farran huffed through his nose, but didn’t rise to her bait. He moved his arm from where it was slung around the headrest on his seat down to Rena’s head, which had suddenly manifested between them. Farran stroked the top of her head with his hands, the giant cat letting out a contented sigh as he did so.

“Well, one of us is happy, at least.” Aspen said. She straightened her spine and rolled back her shoulders for the umpteenth time, but this time held her hand out in front of her face, back facing her. She glanced at her nails and scowled at the dirt that had crawled it’s way under them. She glanced back at the radio before surreptitiously moving her hand over to the knob that switched the channels.

“Two of us could be, though…” She said, because she knew that he would catch on to her game even without her added commentary. Sure enough, a breath after she had trailed off his hand caught hers.

“Don’t yeh try it.” He grunted, sparing a quick look at her before returning his eyes to the road.

“Try what?” She asked sweetly.

“Shouldn’t distract the driver,” he said. 

“Well, the driver’s taste in music is horrendous.”

“Id’n’t horrendous,” he stressed. She could very much argue that his usage of a triple-contraction was horrendous though. “I like it, it’s good.”

“Sure,” she drawled the u-sound. “I beg to differ. And unfortunately for you, I have a free hand.” 

Which she used to change the station, the woman’s sing-yelling rant about her no-good husband being cut off and replaced by the more sensible music of a band who had peaked about three-ten years ago.

It was Farran’s turn to make a frustrated noise, but his grumbling was quickly overshadowed and overpowered by Rena’s deep, baritone growl. The cat narrowed her eyes into slits, unhappy that she had stopped being pet for all of two minutes. Farran released Aspen’s captured hand and returned to rubbing small circles into the top of Rena’s skull. 

Aspen leaned backwards, and thought that perhaps the sun wasn’t too bad when her ears were being assaulted by the combined dissonant “music” of a crooning country singer.