At the end of Penelope’s class, she was feeling so good she had almost forgotten Nolan’s birthday suit appearance an hour earlier. And then she saw the trail of water on the hardwood floor.

She closed her laptop and went to the bathroom to grab a towel. In there things weren’t much better. Because Nolan had closed the door and forgotten to turn on the fan, it was still fairly steamed up. Great, she thought. In addition to the crazy amount of electricity from all the lights, he’s using all the hot water, too.

When Penelope glanced at the mirror, she saw words and scribblings. She looked at it curiously, having a hard time making sense of it. Words like “blue,” “melancholy,” and “forest” were spread across the glass. Or at least she thought that’s what they said—his handwriting was terrible.

He’s taking over the bathroom with his songs, too? Penelope thought, exasperated, as she grabbed a towel and wiped off whatever he had left.

She headed back into her room and dropped the towel to the floor, using her foot to wipe up the water Nolan had left behind.

A soft knock came at the door. “Hey,” Nolan said from the doorway, now wearing jeans, but still not wearing a shirt. “Sorry about earlier. I just wanted to take a pic of my lyrics on the mirror,” he said, entering with his phone and strolling past her to the bathroom. “I rushed out of here so fast I forgot before.”

Penelope remained quiet as he headed to the bathroom, realizing what she had done. A beat of silence followed and then Nolan re-entered the room, staring at her.

“Please tell me you didn’t just wipe away thirty minutes of brainstorming,” he said.

“Please tell me you didn’t spend thirty minutes using all the hot water!” .

“Penny, come on! You know I have a creative process!” Nolan whined. “I needed that for tonight!”

“Well, I really needed space this morning,” Penelope said, starting to match his tone. “For your information, I’m starting classes again, and I didn’t exactly make a good impression on my first day with you lurking naked in the background.”

“I didn’t ruin your class on purpose,” said Nolan.

“And I didn’t ruin your music on purpose,” said Penelope back. “Let’s just both be a little more aware of each other’s…boundaries, okay?”

“Fine,” Nolan pouted.

Penelope studied him, “You’re taking this too seriously,” Penelope said. “It was just words on a mirror.”

“Words are everything,” Nolan said, looking her in the eye. “I don’t say anything I don’t mean, and I don’t write anything I don’t intend to use.”

Penelope paused, hearing how sincere he was. “I’m sorry,” she said, genuinely. He might be more sensitive than I am, she thought.

Nolan softened. “It’s ok,” he said. Then, smiling, “I’ll just have to shower all over again to get the inspiration back.”

“Except,” Penelope said, “The hot water is all gone.”

Nolan thought for a minute. “You know, when I played football in high school I used to take an ice bath to get in the zone. I bet that will work here, too.” He then wandered off to the kitchen to check the freezer.

***

It was three PM and Nolan was pacing the apartment after his second shower, half singing, half speaking his lyrics to himself, and whispering secrets to his guitar?

Penelope watched him from her room through a crack in the open door. She had never seen an artist work before. Is this what they all look like? Like they’re constantly arguing with someone who isn’t there? She wondered. And then her mind drifted back to what Nolan looked like earlier, tattoos dripping water off his chiseled stomach…

Penelope shook off the thought. He’s a conventionally good-looking guy, so what? She thought. He’s still annoying.

“Hey Penny, can I play you this song now? Before we go?” Nolan called out to her.

Penelope sighed. She had said she’d listen to the song and she was a woman of her word.

She walked into the living room. “Give me one sec, I’m just finishing getting dressed.”

“Ok,” Nolan said, raising his guitar, preparing.

He stopped in his tracks when the door opened fully. Penelope was standing there, smoothing her hair and her outfit: a body skimming black dress with a lower cut neckline and higher cut hemline than anything Nolan had seen her in previously.

“Wow, you look…” Nolan trailed off. For someone who claimed to be an expert with words, he found himself speechless for the first time he could remember. “Great.”

Penelope waived him off, dismissing the compliment. “Whatever, I haven’t had an excuse to put on real clothes in awhile. Come on, play your song before we’re late.”

Nolan was still staring at her, having a hard time moving—his mouth or his feet.

“Nolan?” Penelope asked again. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m...great.” Nolan used the same word twice, unable to think of anything else.

“So…?” She asked, looking at him quizzically.

“It’s cool, I’ll just play it at the bar,” Nolan said. He seemed to have lost his nerve.

“Let’s go then,” Penelope said, gesturing to the door as she swung her leather jacket onto her shoulders.

Nolan started quickly grabbing his things, packing his guitar into its case and grabbing his own denim jacket.

“Ok. Let’s do this,” he said, throwing his t-shirt on and confidently taking the lead out the door.

As he started to leave, Penelope noticed the green notebook Nolan used for his songwriting on the couch. She looked at Nolan and back at the book and made a decision.

She grabbed it for him and slipped it in her purse.

“Your legs are longer than mine. Slow down!” she yelled as she followed him outside.