His lips take on a life of their own. I no longer kiss him, but he kisses me. His fingers caress my face. And I feel good. Great. I want more. I want this to never end. But a soft cough breaks the haze of the kiss. I blush and am afraid to look up. But Edgar is not embarrassed. Looks at Ignat mockingly and a little lazily.

- Apparently, they are newlyweds. Hmmm, I'm like a goddamn voyeur right now. Peeping. And I'm not ashamed. I'm embarrassed to ask: will you have dinner? Or run away right now? You are like two torches.

- We will, we will. We'll...