The bubble was cramped, and not made for two people, Tommy decided.

It might’ve been a fine enough pinch to be stuck in, given better circumstances. The walls of the bubble were soft and squishy, and it smelled like lilac and was generally comfortable, as far as bubbles went. 



Of course, that he was pressed against Ashlynn Miraglio, his legs intertwined with hers, his breath in her ear, hers in his–and it was warm and sent tingles down his spine–only added to the discomfort of the space, as did the pitter-patter of rain rippling the bubble edges, and especially the building throngs of onlookers who pointed and laughed and wondered aloud, ‘just what the hell those two think they’re doing, floating above the street like that?’



“You just couldn’t leave me alone, could you?” Ashlynn muttered. She craned her head away, trying to make space for herself and failing terrifically.



“You told me you were lonely,” Tommy protested. 



“Yes. I told you I was lonely, and that I wanted out.” She poked the bubble wall, which jiggled and held. “Not that I wanted you in here with me.”



The bubble began to turn over, much to the cheers of the crowd below–many of whom, Tommy noted, were drivers who’d stopped their cars to point up and shout. Their voices warbled and broke against the bubble wall, barely making through, as if the outside world was underwater. Tommy braced himself against Ashlynn, both hands on her shoulder, and her red face blushed all the fiercer.



“Sorry,” Tommy said. He didn’t say anything else, for he felt a twinge of nausea, and figured if he threw up in Ashlynn’s bubble while they were still in it, the vomit rolling about his feet would be the least of his concerns. 



The bubble reached the other side of the street and bounced off the tall building waiting there. The impact was soft, yet enough to press Ashlynn tighter to Tommy, so that she all but clung to him, he to her. 



“PDA!” someone shouted below.



Ashlynn’s face contorted, and she hissed a curse.



“Sorry,” Tommy said again.



“Shut up.”



“I–okay. Right. Sorry.”



Ashlynn groaned. She dropped her forehead to Tommy’s shoulder, muttered, “Of all the people to be stuck with…” She gripped his arms, her knuckles whitening. “We won’t float forever. Another hour, and we should be back on the ground.”



“And then what?” He didn’t think anyone could help them out of the bubble. Hell, that’s exactly what he’d tried to do, and look at where they were now. 



Sure enough, Ashlynn paused. Cars honked from somewhere near and somewhere far, people shouted below and there was the rush of a metro and the continued pitter-patter and rumbles of rain on the bubble. 



And then, slowly, Ashlynn met his eyes and smiled. It was rueful, and none too pleased, and more than a little irate.



“I have no idea,” she said.



They floated on.