“You know, this,” he said, referring to the sofa they were on, “is probably my favorite piece of furniture ever.”

“Mm-hmm,” she sighed.

She had her legs curled under her and she leaned into his shoulder. He pulled her close to him, and brushed her hair back behind her ear. They talked, about everything and nothing, all in hushed tones.

“I should probably get going,” he said.

“Okay.” But instead of letting him up, she wrapped herself around his arm and held tight.

“I really don’t want to,” was all he could manage to whisper.

And so they stayed on the sofa, holding each other.

“I can hear your heart,” she said, her head resting on his chest.

“Yeah?”

“It’s so loud!”

Now I get what this day is all about, he thought.

“You know,” he warned her, “if you don’t kick me out of your house, I might stay here forever.”

It wasn’t much of a threat.

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