They took to silence. They touched each other without comment and without progression. A hand on a hand, a clothed arm, resting on an arm. An ankle overlapping an ankle, as they sat on a beach, and not removed. One night they fell asleep, side by side. . . He slept curled against her back, a dark comma against her pale elegant phrase.
The thing that I look for in a script- I'm not looking for anything next because you never know where life's going to take you so you can't just expect I want to do this next. So I'm not expecting anything, I'm just hoping.