While Gabriel packed the few bags into the trunk of the Black Hawk Ashley slipped into the bathroom, taking the opportunity to rinse the mingled aromas of sweat and his sex from her skin, and luxuriated in the comforting warmth of the water pouring from the shower head. The dim light streaking in through the small hatch window grouped in tight clusters of brightness, like mottled freckles on the glass face of the shower door.
Showered, the faintest tang of Gabriel’s scent still clung to her skin, acting as a reminder of their first night and morning spent coupled as lovers.
Towelling herself off, Ashley dressed in a tight pair of faded denims and a loose cotton blouse and locked up. As she closed the building door, she saw Gabriel sat on the Studebaker’s stretched hood, his eyes looking somewhere into the foggy middle distance.
“Penny for them,” she called, coming down the steps.
If anything, the mist that had slowly descended on New York the day before seemed to be getting worse.
“Not worth it,” Gabriel mumbled, slipping down off the hood, the last of his vision slipping away as his eyes drew in to focus on her.