048: stuff

"So...do you like...stuff?" the young man asked, the redness in his cheeks reaching new wavelengths in the visual spectrum.

The young woman sitting across from him softly giggled, her face a slightly lighter shade of crimson than his.

Hidden under the young man's breath came a sigh, a moment of relief that his attempt at humor had disguised the very real sense of awkwardness about him.

"Yeah...I like...stuff..." the young woman replied, hoping that she could use the ploy in return, while hiding herself behind the jest.

Laughter followed...calmed by the meeting of their eyes.