22

Gritting their teeth, Marlowe nods.

"I understand. That's really dedicated—I just hope it's not too late."

For a while, the two of you just sit and listen as the music continues to wash over you. You think it must be coming to the end of the album, because as one song fades into the next, the sound keeps on building, the texture swelling until there almost seems no space left in the room for anything else.

As if pulling themself back from the edge of sleep, Marlowe blinks and turns to face you. After a moment, their lips turn up with the faintest hint of a smile—and then, in the space of a breath, they lean closer until your forehead is almost touching theirs. As the music grows so full the air seems to shimmer with it, it seems like everything around you is magical.

After a while, you realize the music has ended, and the only sounds are your own breaths and the faint stirring of the ferrets in their cage. Meeting your eye, Marlowe smiles.

"It's nice not to have to worry about anything for a while. I know it's weird with everything that's going on, but it hasn't really felt like it tonight. It's just been normal. Except—I guess I haven't actually had the chance to hang with friends for a while. I've been busy with other stuff, but it's been kind of lonely ever since most of the people I know have left town. So, it was cool that we got to meet. I mean, obviously." They grin and squeeze one of your hands between both of theirs. "But it was good timing, I think."

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