His voice and ragged breathing shatter whatever control she has left. She watches him, eyes shining, wanting to be closer but loving the look in his eyes. Moving on and around him one last time, she whimpers and cries out.



Somehow, though she's not sure when or even which one of them moved, she opens her eyes and looks into his. His head is beside hers on the pillow, and his breath has evened out, whereas she still breathes like she ran around the lake. The bright light and foggy feeling clears a little -- enough for a small, wobbly smile -- and bizarrely she feels a little sad. But only a little.