Сумерки

           AsIsteppedintothewarmcar,Inoticedhistanjacketwasslungovertheheadrestofthepassengerseat.Thedoorclosedbehindme,and,soonerthanshouldbepossible,hewassittingnexttome,startingthecar.

           "Ibroughtthejacketforyou.Ididn’twantyoutogetsickorsomething."Hisvoicewasguarded.Inoticedthatheworenojackethimself,justalightgrayknitV-neckshirtwithlongsleeves.Again,thefabricclungtohisperfectlymuscledchest.Itwasacolossaltributetohisfacethatitkeptmyeyesawayfromhisbody.

           "I’mnotquitethatdelicate,"Isaid,butIpulledthejacketontomylap,pushingmyarmsthroughthetoo-longsleeves,curioustoseeifthescentcouldpossiblybeasgoodasIremembered.Itwasbetter.

           "Aren’tyou?"hecontradictedinavoicesolowIwasn’tsureifhemeantformetohear.

           Wedrovethroughthefog-shroudedstreets,alwaystoofast,feelingawkward.Iwas,atleast.Lastnightallthewallsweredown...almostall.

           Ididn’tknowifwewerestillbeingascandidtoday.Itleftmetongue-tied.Iwaitedforhimtospeak.

           Heturnedtosmirkatme."What,notwentyquestionstoday?"

           "Domyquestionsbotheryou?"Iasked,relieved.

           "Notasmuchasyourreactionsdo."Helookedlikehewasjoking,butIcouldn’tbesure.

           Ifrowned."DoIreactbadly?"

           "No,that’stheproblem.Youtakeeverythingsocoolly-it’sunnatural.Itmakesmewonderwhatyou’rereallythinking."

           "IalwaystellyouwhatI’mreallythinking."

           "Youedit,"heaccused.

           "Notverymuch."

           "Enoughtodrivemeinsane."