I shuffled around in my seat, rasping the rough fabric of my jeans against the smooth, butter-soft surface underneath. I crossed my hands on my lap and looked through the window beside me. I had to give them that. For car leather seats, their feel and texture was amazingly sleek and delicate. Their color a soothing camel brown that filled ones senses with vanilla caramel scents and silk veil images. But soon my mind struck me with thundering visions of cows being slaughtered and skinned, and my senses were quickly flooded with putrid scents and revulsion.
I sighed sharply. So much pain and death to just fulfill people's vanity. I shuffled around in my seat once again.
Are you uncomfortable? Ian asked.
I turned to look at him. You have me sitting on something made out of torture and unconsciousness. What do you think?
He frowned and glanced at me, confusion cloaking his eyes.
I arched my eyebrow to emphasize.