A busy day, winding down, coming close to its end. In our dorm room, we sit on opposite sides of our room. You are tending to your work, scribbling in your notebook. I am in my bed, casually reading a magazine. For a while there's simply the sound of your pencil tracing on paper, with the occasional flip of a page from my magazine. The sun is still well and up in the sky, and as I look out, a small sigh escapes my lips. I drop the magazine on my bed and roll to my side, focusing on the back of your head.
