"Sigh, I should go," said Sophia's mother, her voice soft, tinged with a trace of yearning, as if she wanted to be in Sophia's place.
"What I'm thinking about it," she shook her head, and walked slowly toward her room.
Her hips swayed a little, showing her prominent curves.
Entering her room, she smelled herself then murmured, "I need to take a bath."
Meanwhile, Maria and I collapsed into the sheets, the weight of sleep dragging us under almost immediately.
Morning came harshly, the sunlight spilling through the curtains.
I opened my eyes, feeling like a zombie, and walked toward the bathroom. Each step echoed in the quiet house.
After cleaning myself, I glanced back at Maria, she was still curled up on the bed, her chest raising and falling softly.
I let her sleep, and quietly, I reached for my coat and slipped it on.
Opening the door, I froze for a second. Sophia was there looking at me.
Her eyes had black marks underneath, she must've spent the night awake.
