Night Drive robin buckley
You never expected to fall for someone older. Especially not Robin Buckley..the girl with messy hair, rings she constantly fiddled with, and a habit of talking too fast when she was nervous.
She worked a few shifts ahead of you at Family Video, always breezing in with coffee she insisted wasn’t for you even though it always ended up on your desk, and it was only you that recieved one.
Tonight, the store was quiet. Too quiet. Fluorescent lights hummed while rain tapped at the windows. Steve wasnt in today, so it was just the two of you, with only occasional conversation and many shared glances.
You were shelving returns when Robin wandered over, leaning her shoulder against the shelf beside you.
“You need a ride home tonight?” She asked softly.
You smiled. “Why? You offering?”
Robin scoffed a little too fast. “I just figured you don’t want to walk in the dark alone. That’s how horror movies start.”
“Are you trying to save me,” you teased, “or are you looking for an excuse to hang out?”
Robin immediately went pink. “Wow. Okay. Bold accusation. I’ll have you know I’m a responsible employee who cares deeply about public safety.”
“Fine,” she muttered. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind an excuse.”
You closed the returns box, leaning against the counter beside you. “So this ride… are you just dropping me off?”
Robin made a show of thinking, tapping her fingers against the counter.
She looked at you, really looked. Shoulders relaxed, mouth softening, eyes warm in a way she never quite let happen when Steve was around.
“On whether you want to go straight home,” she said softly, “or… if you want to drive around a little.”
Your heartbeat jumped, and you knew she saw the way your breath caught, because she swallowed hard. You stepped a little closer, just enough for you to almost be touching.
“Are you being mysterious on purpose?”
Her eyes flicked down to your lips, then straight into your eyes for half a second before she snapped them away.
“I dont know, you make me weird.”
You laughed under your breath. “Weird how?”
She fidgeted with her rings, looking down at her feet, knowing she shouldnt have said what she said, before changing the topic. “So… ride home? With optional, heavily implied detour?”
You grinned. “I’m coming with you. The long way.”
Robin lit up, not with her usual chaotic, loud energy, but something softer. Something real.
She nodded, almost to herself.
“Okay then. Let’s get out of here.”
She said it like she had been waiting for you to say yes.
The parking lot of Family Video was nearly empty by the time the two of you stepped outside. The sky was a deep navy, the kind that looks soft when you stare at it too long, and the air held that warm, summer-night electricity that made everything feel more possible than usual.
She unlocked the passenger door for you. A tiny gesture. But Robin wasn’t the type to do things like that unless she was feeling something.
You slid in, breathing in the air that smelled like her, the warm, comforting scent of her shampoo mixed with hints of old leather and peppermint gum.
Robin climbed in on her side, turned the key, and her old car sputtered to life. She leaned back, blowing out a breath like she was steadying herself.
“Okay,” she muttered. “Just two people. Driving. Casual. Totally normal.”
You gave her a smile. “So normal.”
She bit back a grin, then pulled out onto the road.
The windows were down, music low. Something on cassette, soft, late-night acoustics that barely covered the sound of the warm breeze rushing through the car.
The town lights passed by in slow, golden streaks. Robin tapped her thumb on the steering wheel, eyes locked on the road, but every few seconds she stole a glance at you, looking away quickly when she noticed you were already gazing first.
After a while, she cleared her throat.
“You always do this to me,” she said lightly.
“That thing where you just… look at me. Like you’re waiting for me to say something important. Which is rude, by the way, because I am terrible at important things.”
You tilted your head toward her. “Maybe I’m just admiring.”
Her mouth twitched. “Yeah, thats the problem.”
The silence after that wasn’t awkward. It was thick, warm, magnetic. You could feel the car humming beneath you, like even the air knew there was something being pulled closer.
Eventually she turned onto a narrow back road, the kind with no streetlights, just trees arching overhead like a tunnel. The headlights carved out small slices of the night as she drove deeper and deeper into quiet.
After a few minutes, she spoke again, softer this time.
“When I was younger,” she said, “I used to take drives like this alone. It felt like the only place where I didn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing or… being too much.”
“You’re not too much,” you said instantly.
She let out a shaky laugh. “I know you think that.”
The wind brushed your hair, the night settling around you like a blanket. Her voice dropped even lower.
“and I hate how much I like the way you think of me, and being around you,” she added. “It’s ridiculous, you're eighteen. Im supposed to be all responsible and measured and-”
“Robin,” you said gently, “its just two years.”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “But with you it feels like more.”
The road opened into a clearing, tall grass, open sky, no one around for miles. Fireflies blinked softly across the field like sparks from a match.
Robin inhaled, then slowed the car to a stop, turning off the engine. The sudden quiet felt louder than the drive.
For a moment she didn’t move. Just sat there, hands still loosely on the wheel, eyes fixed forward.
Then she said, “Can I tell you something without you laughing at me?”
She turned toward you, finally fully meeting your eyes.
“I brought you out here because… I don’t trust myself at home, or at work, or anywhere with people... but out here..” She swallowed. “Out here it feels like I’m allowed to want things.”
Your breath caught. “What things?”
She didn’t look away from you this time, she kept her eyes on yours, not moving even once.
The confession hung between you, floating in the small space of the car that suddenly felt way too small.
Robin shifted slightly, knee brushing yours, just a whisper of contact, but enough to send heat curling low in your stomach. Her fingers tapped once on her thigh, anxious, before she finally let her hand drift closer to yours on the seat.
She didn’t grab it, she just hovered, waiting for you.
You turned your hand palm-up, inviting.
Robin’s fingers settled into yours like she’d been holding back for months, thumb brushing slow circles against your skin. Her other hand lifted, hesitating near your cheek.
“Can I…?” she asked, voice barely audible.
You leaned into her hand in answer.
Her fingertips grazed your jaw, feather-light, tracing from the corner of your mouth to the curve beneath your ear. The touch was intimate in a way words couldn’t be, slow, deliberate, almost reverent.
“You drive me insane,” she whispered, breath brushing your cheek.
“You look at me like you know what I’m thinking.”
You leaned closer. “I do.”
Her forehead dropped against yours, warm and trembling just a little. Her hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading lightly through your hair, and your breath hitched at the closeness, her lips a breath from yours, her nose brushing yours in a soft, dizzying line.
“You’re making it very hard not to kiss you.”
“I’m not asking you to stop,” you murmured.
Robin tilted her head the slightest bit, her lips brushing yours in the softest, most tentative touch, like she was giving you every chance to pull away.
You leaned in deeper, matching the pressure, and that was when she finally let out a quiet, helpless sound, something between a sigh and a laugh, like she couldn’t believe she was actually doing this.
Her thumb stroked the line of your jaw as she kissed you again, firmer this time. Warmer, more certain.
The world outside the car disappeared, just the hum of the cooling engine, the warm night air, the soft glow of distant fireflies.
Robin pulled back only an inch, her breath brushing your lip.
“Tell me if I go too far,” she said softly, forehead still against yours.
“You won’t,” you whispered.
Her smile was small and breathless.
Her hand slipped to your waist, thumb rubbing slow circles there, grounding and intimate without crossing a line. She kissed you again, slower this time, like she wanted to savour every moment. Her lips brushing yours with growing confidence, like she was learning you in real time.
She pulled back again, searching your eyes.
“You have no idea,” she said, voice low and warm, “how long I’ve wanted this.”
You brushed your thumb across her lower lip, and she inhaled sharply.
“Show me,” you whispered.
