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Tom finds it poetic how pristinely clean and organized Shayla keeps her bedroom. There is never anything out of place, and everything has its place. It parallels her thoughts and work ethic, and her morals.

But on the nights when they find the time to be together, to stumble back into each other’s arms like they did when they were teenagers, nothing is in its proper place. Instead of joining their respective piles of clothing in perfectly folded tranquility, their clothes lay crumpled on the floor until the next morning. Neither brushes their teeth, nor their hair, and in the morning they find the tangled knot of their bodies stuffed onto Shayla’s cramped twin bed to be an even bigger nuisance than the morning breath and knotted hair.

Except that it’s really not a nuisance at all.

Because Shayla wakes up smiling. Tom rolls over and squeezes her tight to his chest. They lay there a moment, just soaking up the brilliant feeling of a peaceful morning. Then they hear Shayla’s mother calling from downstairs. They laugh when Nathan yells at them to get up so he can go to his room and get dressed.

Shayla blushes, and after one more moment of enjoying the morning bliss, Tom loosens his grip on her waist and lets her get up from the bed, knowing that as soon as he gets up, the busy day starts, and all this peace will be gone. Shayla will make her bedroom pristine once more, and Tom won’t know peace until they mess it up again, whenever they have the time.