More than a few of his hairs, tousled about by her fingers and her desire, now lay on the coverlet, dark designs on copper colored silk. It was longer now, than when he first arrived, and even these strands glistened with sweat.

With idle, curling fingers she lifted of of them to examine it, holding it between them. If she were not fanciful enough to make a wish on it, than Reinette could at least marvel at the events that allowed it to be there at all.

She loved him, of course. That had not changed in the successive years. And he knew that. She did not need to say the words allowed. She loved him, and they were going to walk together for a while. It was selfish, to be pleased by such, but Reinette knew that some emotions simply could not be controlled.

I have to wonder how much there is left of me to explore. She teased, not so much to hide from herself, but because she was happy. But I am sure we can manage maintain interest.

Until the next book arrived to edit. OR machine needed to be taken apart. Or kitchen stove needed to be repurposed.

But that, of course, only made her love him more.