Leon makes an offhand suggestion to give the air conditioner a break. It’s been running for a day straight and he’s fairly certain you two could appreciate an energy bill that has only two digits for once. You shrug your shoulders — it’s a noncommittal gesture.

The air conditioner can be turned off, sure. You tell him you’ll get to it the next time you get up from the couch. In that case, the energy bill won’t be two digits this month.

Whatever. Leon doesn’t mind. In fact, he thinks it’s a small price to pay if it means getting to enjoy his girlfriend’s weight on top of him. It’s a much more pleasant experience than say, a ten-foot abhorrent mutant that chokes on its own vocal cords whenever it tries to threaten Leon.

At least you don’t make ugly noises or chase him around remote areas or wield weaponry against him. You’re nice to Leon. You’re a nice girlfriend.

Leon keeps his touch light throughout the entire time he drags the side of his hand along the slopes and ridges of your face. Memorizing you like this will stave off any chance of developing Alzheimer’s when he turns geriatric, Leon thinks.

“You’re really having fun?” he suddenly pipes up, lazy in the way he cocks an eyebrow. His voice proves to be slightly raspy, maybe because he hasn’t talked much thus far. Not like you mind.

“Doing nothing but lying on the couch with me like this?”