he was trying to read something in a different language. 'take it off, then'.
'no! how many times do i have to explain this to you? it makes me feel beautiful' - she was indignant.
'like wearing silver bangles reminds me of your mother. even when you don't want to become her'- he smirked through the foreign words.
'no...that's different...'- she was ashamed that she had divulged that information. she was still struggling.
'i don't understand how you can become so attached to a piece of jewelery, who's only trait is to sometimes make a deathly faint sound. A child sleeps louder than that'- he said, still reading.
'speaking of which'- she got up and he watched her go. The baby was pouting in her sleep when she checked up on her. Maybe a stroke of love would help change that. And anyway, she was saving her silver bangles for this one. Unless she turned out like her mother, in which case she'd probably chuck them out or bury them alive.
He was coming in just as she was going out. They bumped into each other, apologized, tried stepping out of the way, but not really getting anywhere.
He kissed her then.
'It amazes me how you get any painting done.'
'nearly all of it ends up on your face'- he said, wiping it off with the back of his hand, kissing her nose.
He goes in while she goes out.