The only sound audible is the quick click-clack of my fingers striking the keyboard of the laptop in front of me, with the occasional flip of the glossy textbook page. He sits across from me, silent in whatever productivity he manages to convince me that he is doing.
I like that we can sit in silence. There is a particular extent of beauty that comes from two people not needing to speak aloud to enjoy each other’s company. It is comfortable with him. I am comfortable.