Maybe you should let me worry about your welfare for a change. I think you need some sleep. Lie down a little while.
"Sure, boss. Is that an order?"
It's an order.
"I guess I am a little sleepy. Want some music?"
George shuddered. No! No more records for a long, long time! But leave your microphone on—I like to know that you're there.
While she slept, he carefully kept his thoughts to himself. She's sleeping the sleep of the exhausted. The little nut, she probably didn't go to bed at all while I was—out. She deserves all the rest she can get.
He listened a long time to her quiet breathing. I wonder what she looks like? Is the rest of her as beautiful as her voice? I can't help it—I'm in love with her. I wish I was more than a brain in a bottle. I wish I could touch her—hold her hand. Silly thought. Like a kid on his first date.
He pictured her in his mind—lovely, vibrant, beautiful. How, he thought savagely, could she ever fall in love with me? Simple—she couldn't. No woman could love a freak. And I wouldn't want it that way. She'd be throwing her happiness away.
But damn it!—I can't help it if I want her.