She’s lying in the bed on her side with her back to me, propped up on one elbow. Naked as well, from what I can see. The rhythmic tapping telling me...she’s working on her laptop, maybe that’s what woke me. What’s she doing? An essay? Her dissertation? Maybe she’s on the website where we met. I choose to not lean over and check - more from my own laziness than any respect to her privacy. I look at the back of her head - her mid-length chestnut hair falling straight and loose, resting on her. Whenever they slept together, Peter would always "claim" that side. Peter pulled off his shirt and dove under the covers. Zoe looked through her pack and found a few things that she put out on the table. When she finished, she looked at Peter. He was facing the wall, curled up in the a****l furs. It was dim inside -- the only light coming from the bonfire through the little window. Zoe didn't want to sleep in the sweat soaked clothes again. She glanced again at Peter and making sure his back. More

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