Saoirse is preparing dinner, humming as she decimates a lettuce. The sight of her fills Roy with equal parts fear and longing. He tiptoes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, inhaling the scent of her hair, which is clean and faintly cinnamon-scented, his left hand fumbling to make contact with her breast. He smiles and closes his eyes. The humming stops.
Saoirse: Roy, what are you doing? Are you crazy? Someone will see-
Roy: No they won’t. Dougie’s gone for a ride and Georgina’s locked in her bedroom.
Saoirse: It’s still too risky. You have to try and keep your hands to yourself. At least when we’re in the house-
Roy: Can you put the knife down?
Saoirse does as he asks. She pushes his arms away and turns around, trying to look stern.
Saoirse: Roy, you’re going to cost me my job. I’m serious.
Roy: Alright, alright. Can I come and see you tonight?
Saoirse’s eyes look darker than usual. He feels a cold sensation at the back of his neck.
Saoirse: Roy, listen. I don’t think we can continue doing what we’ve been doing.