Raphael and Taylor lounge in her bedroom, watching TV. He's got his arm around her shoulders and she's cuddled against his side, one hand on his plastron. Their position and the silence allude to comfort, yet they're a little too stiff and a little too unsure to have that be the case.
"Raph?" Taylor murmurs. He grunts. "Can we talk?"
His jaw clenches a little as he swallows. "About what?"
"About the fact that we don't talk?" she suggests. "Every time we hang out now, we just sit and watch TV or you read while I play guitar and like, fine, but..." She shakes her head and sits up, twisting herself around to look at him. "I don't like it."
"So, let's talk," he says, crossing his arms over his chest. "Go. Talk."
She fumes a little. "Not like that."
"Then what?"
"How about being open with each other? Like before?"
He looks away, his sour expression giving way to something more deflated. "A lot's changed since then."
She swallows hard, her eyes starting to sting, and she too turns away from him. Her hand inches to the tattoo curled around her bicep and she squeezes it, breathing hard through her teeth. After a moment, she whispers, "How...how are we gonna make this work if we can't move on? Cómo?"
She hears the mattress shift behind her, then Raphael's hand rests on her shoulder. "Look...Tay," he starts. "I want to move on, but..." He exhales through his nostrils in a huff. "I don't know, I'm trying but I can't. Not yet."
She slowly looks back at him. "I...can't forget either," she says. Her hazel eyes burn with desperation. "So what can we do?"
He purses his lips, thinking for a second. "How about...to start, we have a total honesty policy?" he suggests. "No lies between us, even small ones."
"Right down to 'does my hair look good?'" she asks.
"Yeah, and," he continues with a slight eye-roll, "that means feelings too. I will tell you whatever I'm feeling if you want to know."
She smiles a little. "And I'll be honest with everything too."
"It'll be an exercise in being better for each other."
"Sí!"
They look at each other for a moment and Raphael bows his head, reaching up to rub his neck. "Uh...while we're at it..." He clears his throat. "Honest thing number one, I've been wanting to take you to dinner at Murakami's for a while because we've never gone on a dinner date before."
She grins a little. "I'd love that."
"Does tomorrow work?"
"I'll just have to be back before curfew."
"Awesome." He glances at the TV. "Honest thing two, I'm sick of this show."
She's already grabbing the remote as she flops down at his side. "Honest thing three, I completely agree."