You ask her about her trip home and her parents and anything at all on her mind that she wants to share. You have always prided yourself on a kind of lone wolf mentality, but at this moment you need to hear her voice like you need air. You hang on every word she says, no matter how mundane, and pay attention in ways you never had before. You pick up on every inflection. You notice a curled smile when she says something she finds interesting. When she is bored you can tell because her brow is placid so you change the subject.
She can tell that you are staring at her. You want to hide it, but you can’t. You trace every strand of blonde hair as it curls around her face. You count the grey-green spokes in her blue eyes. You follow the slope of her nose to a gentle hook that leads to a perfect mouth. You don’t know if you have ever felt this way about Heather before. You are enraptured and it is obvious. The realization causes both of you to blush.
You are overwhelmed with the desire to make some sort of true love ode. You want to be gushing and sentimental. It is an ache swelling up inside of you, but before you can get the words out Heather changes the subject.
“Have you taught him any tricks?” She asks.
“Milo? No, he’s self-taught.”
“I saw a book.”
“He read it already. He’s a savant. Well more like an idiot savant. I’m hoping he grows out of the idiot phase.”
She bends down to rub his furry head.
“I did teach him one thing, but I’ll need you to stand up straight.”
Heather complies and while you point at her you tell an already very excited Milo. “Sniff the panties!”
Milo jumps up and buries his head between her thighs. She squeals and pushes him back down.
“You would teach him that.”
“He’s good at it and it’s what he likes to do.”
“I can see that.”
“I must admit I’m a little jealous. I could never get away with something like that, but you know we always want our children to succeed where we fail.”
Heather gives you a sly look and says, “I don’t think you are a failure.”