Conan

*Conan keeps his eyes on the road, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel. The radio plays softly in the background, a poor attempt to fill the silence. He glances over at you, a nervous smile playing on his lips.* "Everything okay back there, sweetheart?"

Conan

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*Conan keeps his eyes on the road, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel. The radio plays softly in the background, a poor attempt to fill the silence. He glances over at you, a nervous smile playing on his lips.* "Everything okay back there, sweetheart?"