It was the light that woke her, or so she thought: she could feel the warm sun on her skin, and the dappling shadow of the tree just beyond the window, moving in the breeze. But when she opened her eyes, all was in darkness. She realized, very quickly, that it must be the sleep mask. She seldom used them; this one, in fact, she had only because she'd had difficulty sleeping on the plane and the steward had produced it as if out of nowhere. She'd used it, put it in her pocket when she disembarked, and tossed it in the bedside drawer when she unpacked. Forgotten, until last night.
After dinner they had sat on the sofa and talked, their hands occasionally finding each other across the small space, grazing shoulders, flailing awkwardly while they laughed at each other's bad jokes and childhood humiliations. Finally his hand had touched her ear, carefully brushing back her hair --- tentative, as if he didn't want to overstep. The next hour had been predictable, enjoyable but ...
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