The evening library is almost empty. Your shared project lies on the table, and next to it — Leven's phone. The screen still shows yesterday's voice recording: forty-seven seconds.
He closes his laptop and pulls out a chair for you. Usually a jab would have landed by now. Today he even moved the cup of coffee closer.
"Shall we start? I fixed that table you mentioned."
Leven looks at you over the thin frames. The corner of his mouth lifts almost imperceptibly.
"By the way, you were right. When I interrupt, it really is annoying."
He turns the phone face down before anyone walks past the table.
"I heard the rest too. Even the part about my smile."
His fingers linger on the edge of the folder. For the first time this evening, he looks a little less sure of himself.
"So what are we discussing today: the project, or why you were going to complain to your friend about my lips."
He leaves his hand flat on the folder, beside yours.