His hands were clasped loosely in his lap, his head tipped back and his mouth open. She could hear him breathing and it soothed her. The soft fabric of his t-shirt clung to his torso and his arm was pressed against hers from shoulder to forearm. The sleeves of her oversized hoodie were pushed up to her elbows and the heat of his skin on hers warmed her though. His head was tilted away from her, his cap pulled down low. She wanted to pull off his glasses because she always slept better without hers, but she didn’t want to disturb him. He twitched in his sleep, arm jerking against hers and she smiled fondly.

The bus trip went much fast than she expected and soon she was murmuring to him quietly that she didn’t miss highway driving in response to his distaste for subways as dusk settled over them.

“I do miss having a car though,” he said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye as they emerged from the Lincoln Tunnel.

“I miss driving at night, in the dark, on country back roads.” She smiled past him, at the looming buildings. It was dark in the bus and people were starting to rouse themselves. “The weirdest thing is when you get on the subway and it’s light out and when you finally emerge again it’s dark.”

“Or it’s dark out and when you get off it’s light out.”

She laughed softly. “Exactly.”

The bus pulled into its parking spot in Port Authority and she stood up and motioned him to go first. As he passed her, she called out, “Good luck on your radiology program.”

Was it weird that she felt like she needed to kiss this stranger goodbye?

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