"i got these new tapes in the mail... want to listen to them with me?"
:sure:
sitting together on a couch in a room above a room. rain pounds on a glass window. painted by candlelight, flickering, never constant. they're not touching; the music playing from the deck links them.
:it's good:
"yeah."
she makes a motion with her hand. his heart leaps. rhat feeling of starting something new, something important, floods over them. trepidation and hope. like it's never happened before.
"should we turn it off?"
:no:
she inches a hand toward his. she's not looking at his eyes. her hair falls over her face.
:when the music plays, we can be happy:
(slightly modified from a prior version)
