He looked at her.
She was busy with her calculation.
She didn’t believe in calculators.
They save time but no, they were not for her.
She believed in her brain power.

He was busy in his own way.
In a world full of reports and research papers.
A world she liked to make fun of and claimed of which she wasn’t a part.
He would just smile every time she said it.
He liked the tone of the statement, the sound of her laughter that followed.

Calculation done.
She looked at him, smiled.
“Done!” she pronounced, proud and beaming with pride.
“Good!” he replied. He was not a man of many words.

“When will you be done?”
A very frequent question that was asked every five minutes.
“ I will be up for a while” common reply.

She made a face.
Walked off.

Minutes passed.
May be she was asleep.
He was starting to miss her.

She walked in, coverlet wrapped around her, hair wet from a shower.
“ Wake me up when you are done.”
She huddled against him, nestling her head on his shoulder.
Smell of jasmine.
Concentration astray.
He liked the feel of her satin on his skin…