His hair, the texture in her fingers, coarse black unruly locks. She didn't know what they would say, what the next step would be. But as for now, she was content watching him sleep.

The click alerted her that the hour had changed. Sunday morning was melting by. Slowly, Natalie rose out of bed, careful not to disturb him. The sheet fell lower, revealing more of his toned figure. She smiled to herself, hoping luck would find its way to her.

Her mother wouldn't approve of this, but the two of them never did get along.

The smell of a cooking omlett was enough to rouse him from sleep. He streched, yawned and gazed at her room. It was a soft blue, serene. Slipping his boxers back on, he then ventured towards her kitchen.

They kissed hello. He slumped into a chair, still groggy.

"Hi."

"Hey."

"So what now? Were do we go from here Paul?"

"I'm not sure. I really..."

She kissed him again, hoping to persuade him. It was quiet for awhile, the birds were trying to ease the tension, trying to get the two to make their own sounds.

"Good omlette."

"Thanks. I love to cook...." Her voice trailed off. Never before had she been so apprehensive. She wanted answers and conversation, by from the look of his face, neither was bound to happen soon.

What could he say to her? She was beautiful but he was a disaster. Should they try it again? Damn it! Say something!