August tugged his watch out of his trouser pocket, popping it open to glance at the time. It was a hopelessly normal gesture. "Four hours, just about," he said, squinting blearily at the watch. Was it really this late? Suddenly August felt tired, bone-deep - he was going to have to rid his home of the body before sunrise, probably wrapped in the bloodied sheets so that the maid wouldn't be too disturbed.

He closed the watch and slipped it back into his pocket.

"I love you, you know," August said.

---