The sheets are in disarray, he finds, upon opening his eyes, and it is the first thought to enter his empty head as daylight filters in through the panes of foreign, half-opened windows.

-

Beauty is confidence they say, and vice-versa apparently.

He believes it too, even if in this moment alone. She walks with the grace of a queen dressed in nothing but a towel, sifting through her drawers for clothes of the day.

Amidst the serenity in the air, he half expects a greeting that he knows will not come, and thinks he ought to feel at least slightly chaotic about the situation at hand. Either that, or expect breakfast on the kitchen table.

One look at the business suit she has laid out on the bed beside him and all hopes of the latter are dashed. Probably for the best. No, definitely for the best.

And perhaps this is what it is. All there is.

Thank you. Good bye. Have a nice life.

-

A heavy sigh or so later, he lifts himself up, feeling suddenly cold as the covers slip and as the breeze from outdoors raises the hairs on his arms.

He waits for her to return to the bathroom before getting out of bed and getting dressed.

Funny. He should not feel like the woman here.

-

Outside the ferries are calling out to the town, signaling their departure with one horn after the other.

Briefly, he considers asking her out to lunch, something of a first date. And yes, he had always been notorious for doing everything in the wrong order.

One look outside and the sky is impeccable. Blue and white.

He thinks he'll go home and fly a kite instead.