June 19, 2010
She took him back to her house. It was raining, and he had nowhere to go. He hadn't said as much, but she could read his dark, dark eyes. So she took him home, to her small flat on the long wet street that she'd come to call home. He stood in the doorway, not sure to come in, not sure if he should invade her in this way. But she beckoned him with a slim finger, and he sat with her in his arms, filling the silence with his slow, sweet smile. And he was there in the morning.