OMG SO HAPPY
“Rob…” She scratched the back of her head, unsure what to say. He usually filled in her silences with ridiculous things that got her fired up, and it at least started something - shouting, crying, talking, making out, whatever - but he was staying quiet.
“Go back to your room,” he told her flatly. “It’s late, and you need your rest.”
“I can’t sleep,” she whispered, her anchor for dreams in front of her.
“Well, I can’t talk.” He rotated his neck on his shoulders and slammed his hands down on the keys, the sudden discordant noise startling her.
“Well, you have my sheet,” she said stupidly through her teeth. He turned and looked at her, swinging around on the bench.
Then he stood, and the sheet fell into a puddle of cotton at his feet. "Come get it, then.”
Her eyes raked him involuntarily, the strong thighs, the - the, no, skip that part, Kristen - the V of his hips and the rust colored curls on his chest. He bent and picked the sheet up for her, holding it between his finger and thumb like it was distasteful for him to have. She stepped forward and took it out of his hands, their fingers brushing.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, agonized that he would treat her so coolly.
“Good night,” he said in response, then sat back down at the piano. As she closed the door behind her, the music picked up.