"No, don't apologize," she murmurs, and not realizing he's gotten a little closer she raises her head to look at him.

She's close enough she can smell his shaving soap--lime.

It's uncertain how long she might have stood there, quiet inches from his face, had not the fireworks started going off over the lake as the final vestiges of dusk melted into a dark blue night.

She backs up instinctually, peering over his shoulder at the brilliant lights.

At least the town isn't looking at them, for once.