In your car.

Just a short vignette loosely based on The Smiths 'There is a light that never goes out'

“Drive.”

“Where to?” He asks, fingers fumbling with the seatbelt.

“I don’t know, just drive. Anywhere.”

She turns away sharply, carefully opening a pack of Marlboro lights.

He watches her.

“What?” She hisses, the frustration is evident, though misplaced, “I can bloody well smoke if I want too! Don’t you dare think of preaching to me. Just drive!”

Rolling her eyes she turns away once more, focusing intently. Shakily her fingers pull out a single cigarette, they twirl it around before grasping in her pocket for a lighter. She flicks it open and bends her head down, cigarette hanging out of slightly parted lips, lighting it. It glows as she inhales and he’s struck by the beauty of the moment; her sharp pale features illuminated by the soft spark. Then the lighter snaps shut and the moment is over.

She sighs to herself and he can hear her soft mutterings, no doubt on how crappy her life is, how she always expected more, how no one understands her. He smiles to himself and starts the car.

She gazes out of the window, bright lights flash by then begin to blur together. She’s taking occasional drags and the smoke coils and twists so prettily that he thinks it must be intentional. It isn’t. It’s untameable, like her. As he watches it dance, he thinks. About her. About him. About this and this moment. About everything.

He’s still watching. He hasn’t realised; she has. Her brow furrows, cigarette momentarily forgotten as it dangles loosely between her fingertips.

“What?” She asks, almost aggressively. He snaps back. He realises his gaze has been transfixed by the bow of her mouth, the red swell of her lips and how the smoke seems to curl out between them, so…prettily.

“Oh” he says, still dazed, “oh I” and he sees the corner of the mouth quirk upwards slightly and knows she is teasing him.

“Nothing,” he smiles.

She rolls her eyes again, turning bodily to stare out the window, her lips wrapping around her cigarette almost reverently. He smiles to himself now, returning his attention to the wheel as she flicks away the remaining ash deftly and with surprising grace. The glow of the cigarette is gone, the curling smoke disintegrating and the moment is over.