I watch his left hand moving up and down the frets, while his right hand strums and picks the familiar melody. An intent look of concentration can be seen on his face, the tip of his tongue flicks across his lips.

I'm laying on the bed, face down with my face mashed into the pillow. As soon as he finishes, I life and turn my head towards him.

//You know,// I say almost casually, //I never thought you and the guitar would be unsexy...until right now, when you played the theme from The Littlest Hobo...//

He puts on his mock rocker face, cranks up the volume, and plays it again.