ARIA'S POV
He burned his tongue on his coffee again on Wednesday morning and said nothing about it.
I watched it happen from across my kitchen counter. A sip too fast, the slight pause, the complete absence of any acknowledgment that it had occurred. I'd seen it four times now. He would never learn and he would never admit there was anything to learn and I had stopped finding it surprising and started finding it, without meaning to, quietly endearing.
That was the thing about the last few weeks. The accumulation of small knowledge.
I knew he read three books at the same time and left them face-down all over the place with their spines up, and it took everything in me not to say something about how bad that is for the binding. I knew when he picked an action movie he was dodging anythin
