Holland
Silence breathed between us, not awkward, just present. I broke it because stillness after a day like today can turn into rumination.
“Are you busy?” I asked.
“No,” he said. Not for you. Not I can make time. Just no. “Do you want to talk?”
“Yes,” I said, relief sliding down my spine in a warm line. “Nothing important. Just—fill the quiet for a minute.”
“All right.” He shifted; I could hear the chair creak. “How’s the apartment? Be honest or Banks will find me and demand a postmortem.”
“It’s… perfect,” I said, and felt my face do that ridiculous smile thing again. “Comfortable without trying too hard. The couch is a hug. The lemon soap claims to ‘brighten’ and I wanted to be smug about it but it sort of did. George pretended not to notice me, which I found soothing. There’s th
