She has a tan, a glorious probably cancer inducing tan, and she finally doesn't melt into the wall. Fingers splayed against the tile, she tips her head back, letting the water push her hair off of her face. The faint smell of pool water drips into the drain and she smiles up into the spray.

The singing is slow in coming. It starts as a hum as she washes her hair, suddenly craving a green apple lollypop because that's exactly what the shampoo smells like. She's pretty sure Granny Smith's don't actually smell like that. She's not hungry enough to investigate.

Her fingers tap out the beat as she lets the shampoo wash out of her hair, lips and eyes shut tight against the soap. When her hands tangle in her hair, she starts humming again.

She knows he can hear her. She knows because she can hear him, playing piano halfway across the house. Or rather, he was playing. He'd stopped just about the time she started humming the second time. He starts again when she makes a circuit through the whole song.

She tries to ignore the fact that he's playing what she's humming. It lasts all of a nanosecond before she rewards him. It's only fair. Shutting the water off, she keeps humming, wrapping a towel around herself and dripping down the hall, leaving a trail of water droplets to lead her back.

"He looks around the room
Innocently overlooks the truth
Shouldn’t a light go on?
Doesn’t he know that I’ve had him memorized for so long
He sees everything black and white
Never let nobody see him cry
I don’t let nobody see me wishing he was mine."

He raises an eyebrow at her and she shrugs, leaning against the doorframe, one small hand keeping her towel from slipping to the floor like she knows he wants. He can wait; patience is a virtue he's really due to invest in. He nods to the piano bench as his fingers fly across the keys. She hasn't seen him look at the keys since her first night there. She remembers only because he wasn't looking at her.

"He’d never tell you but he can play guitar
I think he can see through everything
But my heart
First thought when I wake up is
My god he’s beautiful
So I put on my make up
And pray for a miracle."

She wavers about sitting. She's wet and dripping. He doesn't let her think long though, before he's tugging her down with one hand while he continues playing with the other. She sits immediately, being caught off guard making her surprisingly docile.

"Yes I could tell you his favorite color's green
He loves to argue oh and it kills me
His sisters beautiful he has his father’s eyes
And if you asked me if I love him..."

He stops playing before the last lines and she gives him a look. Chuckling softly, he leans over to press his lips to the side of her neck, his voice rumbling across her skin. "I don't believe the song is finished, chaton."

"If you asked me if I love him... I’d lie."