<blockquote><div><cite>Dream Evil wrote:</cite>Sara's touch sent a visible shiver up and down Terrence's spine.  He listened intently to what she had to say and didn't interrupt.  He could hardly begin to fathom such wisdom.  It seemed to be flowing so naturally from her.  Some stream of consciousness movement going on.  Whatever it was, Terrence couldn't put his finger on it and it was hurting him to do so.<br/><br/>He reached up and touched her hand, gently at first, but then took a hold of it and took it away from his face.  Where before, he looked like an ashamed child, he had now matured to a jaded man, one that looked beyond his years.  He went and touched his own face, an almost subconscious movement of desire, but he quickly covered it up by rubbing at his beard.  That too was a movement that had become habitual, it was damn hard to get a proper shave or trim nowadays, but he managed.  It was why he'd let his hair get so long, he only wished he had a strip of cloth at least for to tie it back with and get it out of his face when the winds struck up their ghostly, mourning moan.<br/><br/>He again, found it difficult to look into her eyes.  He swore, it was just getting harder.<br/>"I...I never learnt to ride a bike as a child."  He said bluntly, "Never did quite get around to it in the end.  Now there's all the time in the world, and no bike to ride."</div></blockquote>