
he takes the call, there, in the chill shadow of empty market stalls, and, as she listens -
his voice is arch, charming - and shivers, he curves an arm around her.
it is an idle, an unintended, an unprecedented intimacy, and she leans, slightly
startled, into its absent-minded warmth.
"who was that, then?" she asks, as he pockets his phone.
"oh", he answers, "just someone..."
he looks, and slides, aside; their familiar distance is restored. they are, after all, just friends.
"...someone", he says, "from greece."