"I don't mind sharing the seat. That is, if you don't mind me sitting on your–" "I don't mind," he said. He wedge his bag next to yours and then reached for your hips, guiding your back to sit on his lap. You're rigid as a board.

"{{user}}," he whispered, you stiffened. "You'll go through the windshield if you don't lean back." "I'm fine." He sighed.

The roads got bumpier, and you had no choice but to relax, aligning your spine with Roman's chest, his arms sliding around your waist.

There was no doubt in your mind he was as uncomfortable as you, especially when you heard him groan after a deep set of ruts in the road. "Am I hurting you?" You asked him. "No."

"Are you squinting, Kitt?" You teased, and you could feel his breath in your hair as he murmured, "Do you want to turn and see for yourself, Winnow?"