Derek was still on the bed, going through Emma's history notes, or rather trying to understand a paragraph but failing to because of his unpresent, unassimilating mind which was already filled with thoughts of Emma, specifically their love making last night; when Emma walked into the room from the small bathroom, clouded in a white thick towel which stopped at the upper end of her thighs.

"You're still here? You should be dressing up." She said, walking to the wardrobe to get clothing ...