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Comatose patient is beautiful and beguiling.

After that she excused herself to go read in her room. I resisted the urge to tease her about other things she might be doing in there.

I flipped channels for a while and settled on an action movie, one I had seen dozens of times and could watch with only half my attention. As the hour grew late, I was having a difficult time concentrating on anything but the sharply focused images of Charlotte on the bed. I felt guilty about my mental leering after our expressions of understanding, but my blood was rushing hotter because of it.

I stood up and walked around a bit, closing the blinds against the night and making sure our doors were locked. I turned off all the lights except one in the hall and Charlotte's light was still on. I sat down to continue the movie, and decided I lay my head back and doze.

Nothing worked to clear my mind. I never fell asleep, and when I closed my eyes, the images became more clear. I thought about taking a shower and matching Charlotte's act of self- pleasure with one of my own, but I didn't move from the couch. It was while I was in this vein of thought that the phone rang, and Jess was calling to let me know she was okay.

We only talked for a few minutes. She gave me a quick rundown of her evening and what they were going to do tomorrow. She told me she was fine, and that her room was nice. I told her that I missed her terribly, and I wished I could have gone along. She had me write down her return flight information, and told me she was already excited for Sunday. We said "I love you" to each other and hung up before the long distance bill could ring up.

I flopped back down on the couch, and Charlotte came padding out of her room to join me. She sat on the other end of the sofa, using the arm rest as a back rest and folding her feet up next to her. "I like this show," she said. I looked over at her, and in the darkness of the room, the light from the television and the hallway flickered and made bright spots in her eyes. "Me too," I said, and before looking back at the television I looked at where her thighs disappeared into her shorts.

"That was Jess," I said. "She's doing good, and says hi."

"Good."

We watched TV in silence for a while. I grew bored with the movie, but didn't suggest changing it because she was concentrated on the show. She looked over at me and rubbed her knees. "I'm getting cold. Would you mind if I sat with you?"

"You want to sit over here with me?" I had heard her just fine, but the question surprised me.

"Yeah." She scooted over before I could answer. "You look nice and warm over here and I'm freezing." She shoved her hip up against mine, and burrowed under my arm, which I had thrown across the back of the couch.
We sat like that for a minute or two, me doing my best to be a warm big brother. I confess, try as I might, my thoughts weren't all brotherly. Some, yes, but not all. Then she shifted around, curling her legs underneath her in a ball and resting her head on my shoulder, still watching the movie. When she was done arranging herself, she rested a hand on my leg. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world, as if she had done it just because that was really the only place she could comfortably rest her hand.

I struggled with the girl cuddled up next to me, and the hand on my leg for another few minutes. I didn't know if I should say something to her, but our friendship seemed to have taken a turn for the better that evening, and I didn't want to spoil that by implying something that wasn't taking place.

Then she started to rub my knee, which was just under her hand.

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