“We shouldn’t need excuses to touch each other,” she said when he sat down next to him. He looked at her with pondering eyes, frowning. “Are we like that?” he asked, pulling a bit of tobacco from his pack. She nodded and he looked away from her. The boy rolled a cigarette as she settled down on the arm of his chair, her feet touching the upper part of his legs. She loved watching him roll his cigarettes, the concentrated look on his face, the quick slender fingers, the way the tobacco smelled. “We all are,” she said, brushing a strand of hair out of his eye and planting a kiss on his forehead.