He heard her chuckle under the big, luxuriant towel as he dried her hair with it. Of course, he knew what she was thinking. They'd nearly fallen in the shower. They'd laughed it off, but explaining a dead, naked girl in the shower would've tested his creative genius to its outer limit. What would he tell the police? His parents? His fiancee? This was what she was thinking. He didn't find it that funny.
He sunk down into his couch and turned on the TV. They had another half an hour or so together before she had to leave for work and he had to remove all trace of her from his home. Nobody could know that she'd been there. Soon, he'd never see her again. We have time, he thought, and tried to focus on the TV.
Robotica was on.
She returned from the kitchen with two mugs of piping hot green tea with mint. She was still wearing nothing but his towel around her. She put the mugs on the table, plopped down into his lap and put her arms around his neck. He smiled at her. She noticed he had that look on his face. She loved that look. It was on his face when she ran towards him in the waiting car. It was on his face when they caught each other's gaze sometimes across a crowded room. She asked him once what that look meant. "I don't know" he'd answered.
She took his face in her hands and kissed him softly on the mouth.
By the time they got to the tea, it was cold and undrinkable.
