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Here is my third part of the story at last - it will make more sense if you start at One. My thanks for your patience. "As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free." And as always, please vote or comment if you like it. Thanks!

*****

This has been a legitimately intense day. From the get-go.

Mwali's alarm went off in the darkness. Her phone played its little tune a few times before I worked out what it was. I reached over her shoulders, grabbed the thing and tapped it a few times before it stopped.

That was all by reflex. I don't think I woke up, but anyway I couldn't make sense of where I was. The time was wrong, the moonlight was wrong, the bed was wrong... It was warm and soft, there was someone here... Mwali.

I could dimly make out her smooth back, the curve of her hips, the subtle smell of her skin and her sex. Memories floated through my mind, of making love, with her, for the first time, laughing, crying, romping with her. I smiled to myself in admiration for actually remembering some Shakespeare to quote to her. Mwali of course had lots.

The second time. In my life. In the quiet night, whispering secrets to each other.

Then the warm slipping, holding each other, falling asleep together.

Then there I was, totally confused by the jingle of her alarm, sitting up in a strange bed.

Our plan was that I would get up and go home around dawn, get organised for school and somehow take it from there. Yeah, it wasn't much of a plan, but it was all we had. I stumbled out of bed and groped around for my clothes. I shuffled out of the bedroom, only missing one sock, but couldn't remember where we'd left our school bags...

Mine was propped by the door. I remembered I'd got my laptop out to start some homework - I never actually opened it, Mwali distracted me when she led me into her bedroom. The laptop was now back in its sleeve, in my bag, waiting for me at the door.

Not really thinking about it, I walked out and down the road to the bus stop. The pre-dawn light gave everything a soft, muted version of the strong, bright colours we are used to in Australia. The air was cool, with a promise of heat later on. Dewy grass and flowering bushes scented the air. The traffic was still a quiet murmur before the day got going.

My body snapped from groggy not-really-awake-yet, to every sense speaking to me, from my feet pressing the ground to the faint breeze on my face. I brushed a lavender bush as I passed and the scent washed over me. I had a sense I would never forget every detail of the quiet morning. That old Hunters