only slightly fiction

[joeyclaren]

He reached across the narrow space and rested his hand, lightly, on the back of her neck. She nudged the car onto the onramp, signaling to turn. The air in the car had the singular quality unique to young love - each could smell and taste the other, sweet and perfectly human, with every breath. The sun had just set, the sky still a lingering dullish orange. He let his gaze rest on her profile, absorbing the details. He felt a pressure in his chest which he knew to be love, knew it from experience, and even as he felt this enormous weight he knew the overwhelming anxiety that she would be taken from him. It was too good to be true, they had agreed, it was too perfect, and he knew the logical dramatic conclusion would be for some terrible tragedy to occur and force them apart. Merging lanes, she glanced over, and he smiled, forcing the dread down. It was unreasonable, he knew, completely unfounded. Looking out the window at the passing cars, he told himself, I am an optimist, trying to remember that it was the truth.
She sighed, leaning into his hand. “I can’t help but think that something terrible is going to happen.”
He shook his head. “I know what you mean. Ultimately, though, worrying about it won’t get us anywhere.” He pressed his hand upwards, ruffling her short hair. “If it happens, it happens.”
She nodded slowly, and turned the car towards their exit.