The road hummed beneath, sliding by like water, and the dark danced with the lights of the freeway. From the passenger seat I watched it, this waltz, as the 10:00 p.m. shadows swirled around the sprinkling of orange streetlight. The radio was singing another ambitious tune, as if crying out for the attention it had decided to deserve. But I ignored it, instead watching the back of my hand pulsate with this exchange of photons and color. Tony lifted his hand from the steering wheel and extended a pinky, knowing I'd return his unsaid swear. I waited for a moment, wondering if characters in movies ever know they're being watched, and then extended my own pinky to curl around his... in the orange and the black... with the radio still crying out for love...