Clara has decided to tell Nolan what's happening to her. She has touched him three more times since the first occasion, always when he's asleep.

Last night, Clara brushed Nolan's hair away from his closed eyes. It parted with her touch and the strands stayed tucked back behind his ear where she put them.

Clara can barely believe it. She tries taking a breath, but nothing happens. That's okay, she thinks. It will come.

Clara is becoming a real living breathing person and it's all thanks to Nolan. Somehow. She doesn't know how this is happening and she doesn't care. First, she will become real to Nolan, than she will become real to his entire world.

When Nolan wakes the morning after she touched his hair, Clara opens her mouth to tell him the good news, but something stops her. He seems in a rush to leave the roof, which is strange because he doesn't have anything to rush to. The manager hasn't been giving him much work. Nolan says it's because there's not much that needs doing, but Clara thinks he's just being mean to Nolan. Still, Nolan says he's made his own list today and it will keep him occupied. A shower head needs replacing, for instance. And the garbage won't empty itself. This self-composed list seems to conflict with Nolan's previous statement that there's not much work right now, but Clara declines to point this out to him.

Clara watches Nolan leave the roof. This is just a case of bad timing. She'll tell him this evening, when the whole night and every star in the sky is before them.

#

It's raining.

The sky is a charcoal gray canvas. There will be no meeting on the roof tonight. Nolan has to decide what to do. About where to sleep tonight. About Canada. About Clara.

Nolan's passport arrived today. It showed up in less than the three weeks he was counting on and fearing.

He should leave. He should pack up his things, get in his truck and go. He tells himself he won't say good bye.

Instead, when Nolan finishes his fake work day, he finds Clara waiting nervously by the stairs leading up to the hatch and asks her what he's been meaning to for weeks.

"Will you spend the night in my room with me?"

Clara eyebrows raise. She gives a little nod and follows Nolan to his room. He opens the door for her and she glides in, taking a seat on his bed. She's wearing that same red sundress, so inappropriate for the weather. He can't seem to place his gaze anywhere but on that dress, on her.

Clara's hands fold, unfold and then fold again. Neither of them say anything.

She pats the bed, just like she did to the bench that day in September. He sits next to her.

"Nolan, I need to tell you something," she mouths to him.

Nolan swallows. And here he thought he'd be the one doing all of the telling tonight.

"Go ahead."

"I'm becoming real."

"You're...you're what?" Nolan can't process this information. "How do you know?"

"I touched you while you were sleeping," she tells him. "Accidentally. But still, I touched you. I felt you."

Nolan stares at her radiant face hoping his emotions aren't betraying him. He wants very badly to cry.

He should tell her, tell her right now; things are moving in the opposite direction from her presumptions.

She can't go on believing this way. It will be too painful for her when she learns the truth.

He shuts his eyes, knowing he should say something to her. She'll be waiting for his response, a response that should be infused with enthusiasm. She'd expect him to be happy for her. Overjoyed.

Nolan holds his breath. And that's when he feels her. Her lips press to his. Her fingers glide along his arm.

He squeezes his eyes shut tighter. Clara is opening the door for him. She is asking him in and he wants desperately to both accept her offer and to refuse it.

Nolan opens his eyes and looks into hers.

He places his hand on the back of her head and presses her face back to him, kissing her once, desperately, completely, before gently pushing her away.

"I'm just like you now, Nolan."

You have it all wrong, he wants to tell her, but the words won't make their way from his brain to his lips. Nolan breathes in a long breath that doesn't seem completely necessary. It's the first he's taken since before she kissed him.

"I'm just like you, Clara." He has told her the truth without her even knowing it.