The silence that followed was profound, broken only by the soft rhythm of our breathing gradually returning to normal. Rachel and I were still in pharmacy's cramped backroom. The air still carried the lingering scent of our sex—a mixture of sweat and desire.
Rachel sat with her back against a stack of medical supply boxes, her knees drawn up to her chest in a pose that somehow managed to be both protective and vulnerable. Her shirt hung loose around her shoulders, only half-buttoned in her haste to cover herself, revealing glimpses of the elegant curve of her collarbone still glistening with sweat. The flush hadn't completely faded from her cheeks, painting her usually pale complexion in shades of rose and coral that made her look younger, more fragile somehow.
