[R shrugs as the record needle hisses briefly over a groove between songs and then breaks into the opening bars of Arrivederci Roma. He squirms inwardly under the mild scrutiny of her gaze and looks down at his hands rather than meet her eyes.]
I like it. [He couldn't tell her the year it was from. He couldn't tell her what year he was from.]
no subject
I like it. [He couldn't tell her the year it was from. He couldn't tell her what year he was from.]
It feels.. alive.