“...slowly, his hands slide off the keys completely. Other musicians can be heard through the walls with the nothingness that fills the space between them as he thinks. Julie is suddenly very aware that the room could choke them with its warmth. There's a light sheen of sweat on Verso's skin, shining in the sun from the window, and they are seated hardly ten centimeters apart and doing nothing about it. Her own tongue trips over the words to try and pull him out of his pensive stupor. The you've got something there stays jailed in her mouth - quel bordel, she should have just mentioned the damned sugar when they had more time. She can't brush the powder away with her fingers, either."
From Causality by @grumblecrows














