prompt: passenger seat

The bend of his arm curves with the wind, making constant waves and you're finding it difficult to keep your eyes on the road as you seeevery time he lifts his right arm to rest on the window the bottom of his shirt rises up, leaving a pale patch of skin and a trail of dark hairs leadingdown, down down.The piano curves in and out of the windows and flies wherever it wants, you're driving fast enough to leave but slow enough to stay just a little bit longer.Ben Gibbard's voice carries you far out as you consider possibly holding his hand, gripping it for a second and maybe feigning surprise when he squeezes back.The sun is fading purple, his eyes are bright blue and incandescent. They seem to not mind the song on repeat, soon enough quietly singing along and smilingwith his eyes.In the gaps of silence, you ask him if they collide, but this time, he doesn't smile.He slowly fills the gap that was between you and him and it's all lips and warm breath and the bursting of your heart, his hand in the curve of your waist andBen Gibbard saying everything you would have wanted to say yourself but you can't.