As we inch slowly through the tunnel, the light fades away, drenching us in blue. The sickly sweet smell of soap tickles my nostrils as the car is lathered up. I turn my eyes away from the beautiful rainbow patterns of bubbles and take in his features under the strange light. In the darkness, he becomes something else, drenched in blue and black, but ever so beautiful.
He turns the music up and sings along. I try to join, but my lungs have shrunk again. He’s having a perfectly normal day, just running errands, but I’m melting away with the bubbles, drinking in every single moment that we’re within such a short distance of each other, staring at his face when he can’t see.
The sponges beat against the outside of the car like a thunderstorm but we exist solely in our own private world. There is no proof anyone or anything else exists. For the infinity within those few minutes, we can simply be together. We crawl through the exit and the sun comes streaming into the car, blinding me temporarily. I blink a few times and when my vision clears, the world is back again, but I am alone.