Toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant…“RIGHT?” she asks, panicked.You slam the mirrored door shut and glare at her. “I don’t know. But I’m not...staying HERE while I figure that out.” She leans in, and then her hands reach for you, tug at your shirt, your hair. You sweep her arm away with your own and return to the bedroom. Where the hell are your keys…?“Baby…” Her voice is quiet and gentle. Then her hand finds the middle of your back. In that moment, all is her touch—a familiar, loving touch that’s. ‘Sir have you been spying on me on a morning time?’ I can’t help it, I feel playful now that I’m away from the stress of university and Mrs Fletcher. ‘Why Amy I believe it’s been you that I keep finding staring at me with those hungry green eyes of yours’. He has to be looking close for him to realise my eye colour and the fact he knew all along that I look at him each day is embarrassing, yet for once, I don’t flush. ‘And…We’ll have less of the ‘sir’ while we’re here. I told you, I’m not a. More

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