Literature
A Mutual Agreement
They sat together, intertwined on the couch. The television played quietly in front of them, although neither were watching the scenes unfolding before them. She was pressed firmly into his side, her head lying on his chest, just high enough to hear his heartbeat. He gently tousled her hair, fingers twining through the long strands. They were silent, lost to their private worlds made of their own thoughts.
"Are you bored as well?" the girl finally asked, her voice soft, as if she feared to break the stillness that had fallen over the room.
"There aren't any fireworks anymore," he agreed. They both knew he was not speaking of firecrackers.