Aurora, Chapter 05 

"Late to Rise" 
(P-M1g1, H-N)
An (eventually) erotic story by Katryna
Last updated 12/17/06 

This adult story is (C) by Katryna. It may be redistributed subject to a few 
provisions but may not be sold or otherwise used for profit and must have this 
heading attached. Please read my legal notice as downloading, redistributing, or 
reading this story signifies your agreement to the terms and conditions outlined 
within it. 

Joe blinked sleepily, shaking his head slightly to clear the sleep from it. He 
saw, and felt, Aurora dozing peacefully against him, rather closer than he 
remembered her being when he fell asleep. He figured she must have snuggled up 
against him more during the night, for affection, or warmth, or both, and he 
smiled for a moment. Muted sunlight was oozing through the heavy curtains, with 
that bright "midday" quality, and he felt relatively well-rested, so he assumed 
it must be late morning or early afternoon. A glance at the watch he?d never 
remembered to take off last night confirmed his suspicions; it was 11:03. 

As his mind booted up, it gradually dawned on him that he was quite hard again. 
Morning wood was unsurprising, he thought, especially given the events of last 
night. He shook his head and swallowed, thinking over it. He hadn?t enjoyed 
jerking off as much as he did this time in quite a while, but he was puzzled a 
bit by the strange shift in the appearance of the woman he was visualizing. He 
had a decent idea as to the cause, and was slightly unnerved by it, but he 
figured it was probably harmless enough. Perhaps he?d just been up here too long, 
alone... 

He moved slightly, and his eyes widened as he registered that the head of his 
cock was now gently pressing against the girl?s butt, through the covers. "Shit," 
He whispered, trying to scoot down a bit without waking her. This was non-trivial 
given the position he was in; he didn?t have much in the way of leverage and any 
attempt on his part to move down would almost certainly jostle either her or the 
mattress, which would risk waking her and leading to a very awkward explanation 
of what exactly was poking her and why. 

After considering the situation for a moment, he felt her stirring slightly and 
decided to risk it. Having her wake up with it there was guaranteed to be 
awkward. He shifted his left hand so the palm was against the bed, pushing a bit 
as he tried to shift his right elbow under him without embedding it between her 
vertebrae in the process. She stirred a bit more, murmuring as he scooted down 
about an inch. He lay still for a moment, willing the erection to subside. 

Aurora stirred again, feeling his movement. "Huh?" She asked sleepily; he wasn?t 
sure at first whether she was really awake. 

"Just getting more comfortable, honey," He replied, half-truthfully. 

"Ok," She murmured, settling again. He sighed quietly with relief, then paused 
and blinked as he realized that she must have felt him pressed against her 
during the night. If she was awake to feel it, doing so clearly hadn?t bothered 
her, at least not enough to move away, let alone do anything more drastic, and 
if she was asleep it clearly hadn?t bothered her enough to wake her. He was 
mildly surprised at this, although, he thought, he didn?t have much of a reason 
to be; the kid was clearly both quite innocent and unnervingly deferential. 

Joe yawned at length. His head still felt heavy, and he found his eyes closing 
reflexively. He tried to avoid oversleeping when possible, but he and Aurora had 
both had a pretty intense night?he kicked himself yet again, quickly rephrasing 
that thought?and he, for one, was still feeling tired and a bit achy; he 
suspected the same was true of her. He shrugged, hugging her gently but firmly 
against him as he began to doze off again. 

When he woke next, the sun was a little brighter, and a glance at his watch told 
him it was now 13:23. His head was starting to feel a bit stuffy, and he 
suspected that before long the minor headache that typically accompanied 
oversleeping, for him, would fully manifest. He blinked, registering first that 
he was still--or once more, perhaps--quite hard. The second thing was that he 
had to pee. 

Aurora was still sleeping next to him. Her breathing was soft and calm, and she 
murmured and quivering slightly as he slowly slid out from behind her and off 
the bed, as he had before, but her eyes remained firmly shut. She smiled 
slightly as she slept. He smiled back and resisted the urge to brush her hair, 
probably waking her; he settled instead for looking over her small body with 
adoration and something akin to reverence. After a moment, he shook his head, 
smiled slightly, opened the door to the bathroom, and stepped inside. 

He crossed the bathroom to the toilet, past the tub, glancing in the mirror over 
the sink as he did so. His hair was more unkempt than usual, even on waking up, 
and he tried to smooth it in the mirror with his hands, with partial success. 
One side was still "fluffier" than the other, but his hair was more or less 
passable. He shook his head and stepped over to the toilet, reaching down to 
lift the seat and lid as he moved in front of it. 

Joe unzipped himself, shivering a bit at the contact of his fingers on his still-stiff 
shaft. He swallowed, glancing down at it for a moment, then shivered again as he 
aimed it at the toilet. The persistence of his arousal was starting to unnerve 
him, especially when it was associated with Aurora, as much of it seemed to be. 
The kid was twelve years old for fuck?s sake! 

He kicked himself mentally, then shrugged slightly. He clearly needed relief of 
some sort, and masturbating in bed beside her, in daylight and with her likely 
to wake up at any moment, wasn?t really an option. This would work as well as 
anything else, he thought, as he grasped his shaft firmly and began to stroke. 
The model from last night swam into view, brown eyes and all, and he imagined 
his hands kneading and grasping her flesh as he pushed himself inside of her, 
feeling her pulse racing as he pressed against her. He could almost feel her 
strong legs wrapped around him, her tongue in his mouth, matching the rhythm in 
which he thrust into her, her body undulating as she pushed her own hips up 
against him, impaling herself on his cock. 

Joe felt himself tensing again in short order, the familiar electric sensations 
racing through his body, radiating from his cock as he stroked. He was breathing 
harder, going on gasping, and he felt significantly warmer. As he tensed further, 
approaching orgasm, he sensed a slight film of sweat building on his brow. He 
swallowed and aimed his cock at the toilet as he quivered, reaching for the wall 
with the other hand for support. His shaft twitched and the first rope of sperm 
whipped out, landing half in the bowl and half on the hinge of the seat. He 
gasped, quaking as the pulsing continued, several more "shots" following the 
first, landing in the bowl with very soft splashes as his orgasm wound down. The 
remaining few spurts came with his hand around his cockhead, welling up between 
his fingers. 

He gasped for a moment, shaking his head slightly, then reached for the toilet 
paper. He unrolled five or six squares and used them to wipe his hands, then 
dropped the wad in the toilet. He rolled out and tore off another six squares 
and used them to wipe the residue from his fingers, adding them to the toilet 
paper and floating ropes of semen in the water. He unrolled another set of six 
squares and used them to wipe first his cock, then the toilet hinge, dropping 
them in as well. 

He shook his head slightly as his breathing, still deep but slower than at 
orgasm, returned to normal. His cock had shrunk down to about half-erection, 
though it twitched and began to swell slightly when he touched it. Ignoring his 
body?s reaction, he grasped it firmly with both hands and aimed it into the 
toilet, relaxing his muscles. A stream of urine burst forth from the head and 
began to splash into the bowl. 

Joe sighed, half-closing his eyes, feeling his cock swelling a little more. He 
was on the verge of contemplating letting it return to full hardness and 
masturbating again when he heard the click and soft creak of the door to the 
bedroom opening. His eyes flew open, and he resisted the urge to either cover 
himself or try to stuff his cock in his pants; he was still in the middle of 
peeing and either action would result in an embarrassing mess. Instead, he 
merely glanced over at the door, looking clearly startled. "Um..." 

Aurora stood in the doorway, her eyes widening slightly as she stared at him for 
a moment. He knew, from the way the door and the sink and toilet were positioned, 
and her vantage point at the door, that his cock was fully visible. She looked 
him over, glancing at it about three times, in the space of about two seconds, 
before quickly lowering her eyes, blushing deeply. "Oh my god...I?m sorry..." 
She stammered, quickly backing out and closing the door. 

He shrugged and finished peeing, then flushed the toilet. With a gushing roar 
the toilet absorbed the evidence of his reaction to her body?how romantic, he 
thought with a mental snicker?and he put the seat down once more for her, since 
he imagined she would have to pee as well. Why else would she have come in, 
after all? 

Joe stepped over to the sink and turned the water on. He paused for a moment, 
then stood on tiptoes, holding his cock over the front of the basin in his right 
hand and splashing it with water with his left. With his hands and shaft wet he 
was able to quickly and efficiently remove the paper shreds that clung to his 
cock. Satisfied that it was "clean enough" he stuffed it back into his pants, 
then his briefs, and zipped himself. 

Finally, he quickly washed his hands and dried them on the towel on the ring 
beside the sink. Properly clean, he turned and walked to the bedroom door. Joe 
paused for a moment, listening, then knocked softly and waited about a second 
before opening it and stepping cautiously into the room. 

Aurora was sitting on the edge of the bed, blushing deeply still. She looked up 
as he entered, then quickly down at the floor. "I?m sorry..." She stammered, 
softly; almost a murmur, he thought. 

"Huh?" He asked, cocking his head. He moved closer to her, slowly. 

"You know...I...wasn?t meaning to..." 

"I know," He replied. "Don?t worry about it." He turned and sat down on the bed 
next to her, and turned his head towards her. 

"But..." Her tone wavered slightly, even as she relaxed visibly. She turned her 
head toward him and looked up, cautiously, her reddened face slowly beginning 
the journey back to her normal skin tone. 

"But?" 

"Doesn?t it...bother...you?" She asked, cocking her head. 

"What, you walking in on me?" 

"And...you know...seeing...you..." She said, blushing again. 

"It?s a little awkward, honestly," He replied, truthfully. "However, it?s not a 
big deal. Don?t dwell on it." 

"Okay," She said, smiling weakly. "I didn?t mean to...I kinda noticed when you 
got up but I wasn?t really awake," He nodded, listening, and she continued, her 
tone transitioning back to almost-apologetic, "and...um...you were in there for 
a while..." She trailed off. 

"Trying to fix my hair a bit, and deciding whether or not to shave," He lied, 
managing, with effort, to keep his expression neutral. "You?ve probably noticed 
I really need it..." 

"Don?t," She said, and blushed slightly again. "Looks good like this..." 

She was blushing deeper, and he smiled and patted her back. "Thanks," He said 
simply. 

She nodded once more and continued: "...and I didn?t hear the toilet so I 
figured I missed it and you?d gone downstairs or something, and, um..." 

"You had to pee?" He asked, finishing her thought. 

"Badly," She confirmed, blushing a little. "Mind if I..." 

"Of course not, silly," He replied with a smile. "Go ahead." 

"Thanks," She responded, almost leaping up off the bed, whimpering almost 
inaudibly as she did so, her face straining a bit as she quickly crossed the 
bedroom and entered the bathroom. She pulled the door to behind her, and he 
heard her hurried footsteps as she crossed the bathroom and sat down on the 
toilet. A moment later she sighed loudly with relief, accompanied by the hissing 
and dribbling of her peeing. He blushed slightly and reached to grasp the 
doorknob, intending to close it, and after a moment he did so. "Thanks," She 
repeated, muffled by the door between them, her voice slightly strained. Clearly 
she wasn?t exaggerating about the condition of her bladder. 

After about thirty or forty seconds he heard the toilet roaring as it flushed, 
then her footsteps followed by the water running in the sink. He smiled; the 
stomach-turning practice of not washing one?s hands after using the restroom was 
mostly a "guy thing," but he?d known or heard of a few women, especially young 
women like her, who did the same thing. The kid seemed to have pretty good 
hygiene; "yet another thing to appreciate about her," he thought. 

After about thirty seconds, she opened the bedroom door without too much 
difficulty and stepped through. "Better," He asked? 

She smiled weakly and nodded. "Much," She added, blushing slightly. 

He nodded back. "Hungry?" 

"You mean like breakfast?" 

"Yeah." 

"Oh, um...that sounds good..." She said, smiling eagerly. 

"Awright. Let?s head downstairs and I?ll try to make you something without 
burning it," He said with a wry smile. 

She returned it and nodded. "All right." She slid off the bed and rose to her 
feet, taking a couple of steps toward him. He turned, crossed the room to the 
bedroom door, and opened it, stepping aside and gesturing invitingly as he held 
the door for her. She smiled as she passed him, heading into the hall. 

They came to the stairwell and she began to walk softly down it; he was about to 
try the sliding trick he usually used on his way down the stairs but realized 
that if he did he would almost certainly collide with her, with unpleasant 
results for all concerned. Instead, he simply followed her down the stairs, a 
step or two behind the whole way. 

She stepped off the last step and turned the corner into the kitchen, walking to 
the edge of the table. She looked back as he rounded the corner, cocking her 
head uncertainly. "Hmm?" He asked, coming to a stop next to her. 

"Um...d?ya want me to help with anything...?" She asked, apologetically. Again 
he found himself wondering for a moment, but he thrust the thought aside. 

"I?ll be fine. Go ahead and relax. Um, what do you want to eat?" 

"Well...um, doesn?t really matter..." She almost murmured. 

He looked at her for a moment with concern. "Seriously. Um, I usually just have 
some Eggos, maybe some scrambled eggs to go with them...don?t really have a 
whole lot of meat, but I might be able to find something in the freezer..." 

"Eggos sound good, actually," She said, a little nervously still, but clearly 
relaxing. 

"All right," He replied, crossing the kitchen to the refrigerator and opening 
the freezer compartment. "I?m gonna make some eggs, too; how many do you want?" 

"Um...two is fine..." 

"So is three," He replied, raising an eyebrow. 

"I don?t wanna...you know...get fat..." She said with a shrug. 

He sighed and tried to smile reassuringly. The girl?s behavior was suggesting 
more and more that at least one person associated with her upbringing badly 
needed a swift kick in the rear. "You?re not in any danger of that, honey," He 
replied. 

"Really?" She cocked her head. 

"Really. If anything you could use a little meat on your bones," He replied. 

She smiled softly and shrugged. "Three, then." 

He nodded. "And how many waffles. Same number?" 

"No...well...um...ok," She stammered, shrugging apologetically. 

"Awright," He responded, then glanced at her again as he realized she was still 
standing beside the table. "Um, you can go ahead and sit down if you want," He 
added. 

"Oh...yeah, sorry," She replied as she pulled out the chair, the closer of the 
two on the side facing the door. She sat down in it, the t-shirt riding up her 
thighs a bit. Again, he tried not to stare. He was worried, as he was still 
having a hard time keeping his eyes off her, but she wasn?t acting uncomfortable...at 
least, not in the way that would imply that his glances were bothering her. He 
wondered again about the hesitation and uncertainty. 

"Nothing to be sorry about," He replied, deliberately allowing a hint of 
exasperation to creep into his tone. He didn?t want to make her feel threatened 
or chastised, but he hoped she?d get the message that it was ok to act like the 
welcome guest she was. She blushed slightly but didn?t seem perturbed. 

He turned back to the freezer. The Eggo box was already open and he fished two 
sets of three waffles out of it. As an afterthought, he closed the flaps this 
time, followed by the fridge door which, to his credit, he usually remembered to 
close. He sidestepped to the toaster oven, opened it, and set the waffles in, 
arranging them in a slightly overlapping pattern in order to fit all six. After 
setting the toaster oven to "medium," he returned to the refrigerator and opened 
the lower door, scooping up six of the extra-large brown eggs that were among 
the few "luxuries" he insisted on. 

She glanced at them. "Um...the brown thing...doesn?t mean they?re fertilized 
does it?" She cocked her head. "Cause, I know they sell them like that..." 

"No; it has to do with what kind of chickens laid them and what they?re feeding 
them," He replied. "Don?t worry, I think those are icky too." 

She nodded and made a face, then giggled. He set the eggs down on the edge of 
the stove and closed the refrigerator, then knelt, opened the drawer below the 
stove, and fished a good-sized frying pan out of it. "How d?ya like your eggs?" 
He asked. 

"Scrambled," She replied, unapologetically this time. She was relaxing; a good 
sign. He glanced at her. "Really," She added after a moment, smiling sheepishly. 

He nodded. "All right," He replied, finding himself actually enunciating the 
word this time. He set the pan on one of the stove?s large burners, then turned 
and opened one of the cabinets on the opposite wall, fishing out a can of 
cooking spray. He liberally coated the pan with it before setting it back in the 
cabinet and closing it. 

He took the eggs and cracked them, one by one, on the side of the pan, parting 
each shell and dropping its contents into the pan before tossing the shell 
unceremoniously into the sink. When all six eggs were in the pan, he sidestepped 
to the drawer above the cabinet next to the sink and opened it, producing a 
wooden...wedge-shaped...stirring...thing. He kicked himself; he used to know 
what the damn things were called. 

Joe shrugged mentally, grasping the WWSST, turned the stove on, and kicked 
himself for having forgotten to do so earlier--it would have saved some time, he 
reflected. He began to beat the eggs, squishing the yolks one at a time and then 
whipping and mixing the resulting yellow-and-white goo. After a minute or two, 
he heard the toaster oven ding; the waffles could wait for a moment, he decided. 
As the stove heated, the eggs began to cook, and after a few minutes had become 
a delicious-looking mass of half-gelled protein. 

He reached up into one of the upper cabinets and fished out two plates, plain 
white Corel, hearing Aurora gasp and start to get up as he narrowly avoided 
dropping a set of nested porcelain bowls on his head. "I?m all right," He said, 
gasping a bit himself as he pushed them back upright and fully into the cabinet. 

"You sure?" She sounded genuinely worried, not like she was just being polite. 
He smiled; being worthy of her caring about him--he chuckled mentally, thinking 
about that perspective--made him feel a bit warmer inside. 

"Yeah, I got it. Thanks though." After setting the plates down and making sure 
the bowls were in a safer position, he closed the cabinet and picked up the 
frying pan. He tilted it at an angle over the plates and used the WWSST to push 
clumps of egg onto each of their plates, distributing them as evenly as he could. 
When he was done, he set the skillet in the sink, adjusted the faucet over the 
plate, and turned on the hot water to start getting the grease off of it. 
Grasping one plate in each hand, he sidestepped to the toaster oven and opened 
it, holding up one plate at a time and pushing three of the still-hot waffles 
onto it. 

When the toaster oven was empty, he closed it, turned, and walked to the table. 
He set one plate down in front of her, and the other in front of the chair 
opposite her, then pulled the chair out and sat down, tensing slightly as it 
creaked. "As you probably gathered, these are kind of old," He commented. 

"So I heard," She replied, and giggled. He smiled, paused, and smacked his 
forehead. "Huh?" She asked, cocking her head, obviously startled. 

"Silverware," He replied sheepishly, scooting his chair back and rising to his 
feet. The chair creaked again as he rose. 

"Maybe you better sit in a different one?" She asked, shrugging apologetically. 

"Nah, they?ve done that for years," He replied. "Thanks for your concern, though." 

"Um, ok," She responded, shrugging again. He turned, took a few steps into the 
kitchen, and opened the drawer next to the one he?d taken the WWSST out of. 
After a moment?s deliberation he fished a pair each of knives and forks out of 
the drawer; he hadn?t cooked the eggs soft enough to require a spoon, he thought, 
amused. He walked back to the table and handed her one pair, setting the other 
next to his plate. She smiled and he shook his head slightly, reflecting that 
the oversleeping headache he?d feared had never manifested. 

"You know, butter and syrup would probably go pretty well with those waffles," 
He reflected aloud. 

She smiled. "And, um, napkins...I don?t wanna dribble them all over your shirt." 

He nodded, feeling vaguely like he was missing something, but he couldn't 
remember what. Disregarding it until further notice, he crossed the space to the 
refrigerator and opened it, extracting a container of imitation maple syrup. 
After closing the refrigerator, he turned to the cabinets behind him, opened the 
third from the right, and fished out a butter dish with about half a stick of 
butter and plenty of crumbs in it. He closed the cabinet and turned toward the 
sink, tearing a pair of paper towels from the roll hanging from one of the 
cabinets. After turning back toward her, he walked to the table, set the butter 
dish their plates, handed her a napkin, and sat down at his place at the table, 
hearing the chair creak again. 

Aurora was already finished with her eggs, and she grasped her knife with one 
hand, reaching for the dish with the other, removed the cover, and set about 
modestly buttering her waffles. He started with his eggs as well, watching as 
she drenched the waffles with syrup. He paused to butter his, also sparingly, 
waiting for her to finish. When she set the bottle down and began slicing bites 
of waffle with her fork, he reached for it gingerly and poured maple syrup on 
one waffle at a time as he stacked them. She watched, cocking her head slightly 
as he sliced through all three with a fork and speared the triple-layered bite 
on the tines. After a moment she began to stack hers, putting the half-cut up 
waffle on top, then attempted to duplicate his technique. She managed well 
enough, though the bottom piece nearly fell off the fork on the way to her mouth. 

She was clearly quite hungry and ate quickly, leaving little time to talk. About 
halfway through she mumbled something through a mouthful of food. "Hmm?" He 
asked, his mouth half-full as well. 

She blushed slightly and swallowed. "This is good," She repeated. 

He smiled. "Thanks. Just glad I didn't burn anything." 

"Why would you?" She asked, cocking her head. "I mean, do you tend to, or..." 
She corrected herself, trailing off. 

"Not necessarily burning, but I don't handle cooking complex meals very well," 
He replied with a shrug. "That plus convenience is why I've got so many instant-dinner 
boxes in the cabinets and freezer." 

"Ah. Heh, my mom used to call that stuff 'Purina Bachelor Chow.'" She smiled 
wistfully. 

"More or less accurate. I dunno, I think a lot of women eat like that too, 'specially 
if they're in school." 

"You mean like college?" 

"Yeah, sorry." 

"S'ok, just clarifying." She shrugged. They continued eating in silence; she 
finished first. 

"So, where do you go to school?" He asked. In a town the size of the nearest one, 
it was almost a rhetorical question, but there was a small public school with 
both elementary and middle schools on what was essentially the same campus, and 
at least one parochial school. 

"I, um...don't..." She replied, blushing slightly, looking down at the table. 

"Huh?" He was surprised, and it clearly showed; she shuddered slightly and 
swallowed. 

Aurora looked up, with difficulty, searching his eyes for any hint of 
disapproval. "I kinda had a tough time with, you know, classrooms and other kids 
and stuff, so I've been doing, um...what's it called...they mail you big fat 
packs of paper and you mail them the homework pages once you do them?" 

"Correspondance courses?" He asked, swallowing the bite of waffle he'd popped 
into his mouth while she spoke, and she nodded. 

"Yeah, that's the word." 

"So what are you taking this, um, year I guess," He asked. 

She thought for a moment, counting on her fingers, while he took the opportunity 
for two more bites. "U.S. History again, beginning algebra, English comp..." 

"Quite a bit, then." 

"Yeah. I wanted to take a computer course but, um..." She trailed off. 

"You didn't have one to use?" 

"Yeah..." She looked at the table again. 

"That's nothing to be ashamed of, honey," He responded, smiling reassuringly. 

"Eh...I s'pose not," She replied, and smiled slightly. 

He finished the last bite of his waffle and reached for her now-empty plate, 
cocking his head slightly. She blinked, then realized what he meant and handed 
him her plate, her silverware resting on it. He scooped up his knife and fork 
and set them on her plate, then set her plate on top of his. Grasping the plates, 
he stood and walked to the sink, setting them unceremoniously down in it. He'd 
deal with them later, he decided. 

She wiped her mouth with her napkin and then, glancing at him apologetically, 
wiped dutifully at a few drops of syrup that had landed on the shirt. Most of 
them were above her breasts, but one of them must have landed right on her left 
nipple, and she shivered slightly as she wiped at it. By the time she moved her 
hand away, her swelling nipple was slightly visible under the shirt. She blushed 
and shrugged; he returned the shrug, glancing at her chest but trying not to 
stare. 

"Sorry 'bout gettin' your clothes sticky," She half-mumbled. 

"It's all right. Syrup comes out just fine in the..." He trailed off, blinked, 
then sighed and smacked his forehead. "Goddamnit..." 

"What's wrong?" She asked, concerned and a little apprehensive. 

"I totally forgot to put your clothes in the dryer." 

"Oh..." 

"Sorry." 

"Nah, it's not a big deal. Um, should we do that now?" She asked, shrugging. 

He nodded and started toward the laundry room door, Aurora following a step 
behind. He fumbled with the knob for a few seconds before finally getting the 
door open, then sighed, flicked on the light, and stepped into the laundry room. 
The washer and dryer were silent, of course. He walked to the washer and opened 
it. Aurora moved to stand beside him. Her clothes were plastered against the 
wall of the washer as a result of the spin cycle. Joe reached down, grabbed the 
leg of her jeans, began to pull, and suddenly paused. 

"What's wrong?" She asked. 

"Does this feel soapy to you?" He asked her. 

She reached into the washer and patted the clothes, running her fingers over 
them. "Yeah," She replied. "Guess they need another rinse?" 

He nodded and turned the washer dial back to the start of the rinse cycle, then 
pulled on the knob, starting it. Cold water began to flow into the washer from 
the top, and they dipped their soapy fingers in the mini-waterfall, cleaning 
them. Aurora stepped back slightly and Joe closed the lid. The washer began to 
whir as they walked out of the laundry room, Joe turning out the light and 
closing the door behind him. 

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