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Natasha straightened up and struck a pose in the mirror on the closet door, cocking her head around to see if the vest was bunching up in weird places or if it made her look bigger than she was. At least it matched the black rings on her tail, and her natural mask. She pivoted around and looked back with her hands on her hips, gave a sigh, pulled off the black leather vest, and dropped it on the floor next to her bed. The Velvet wasn't some seedy biker bar from the 80's, and the tight leather pants might already be too much, let alone a sleeveless high-cropped thing that could be used for a cheesy street racing movie. Her idle fretting is interrupted when she hears her dad hollering from downstairs calling to come help bake. Tasha sighs, settles on a simple t-shirt that would hug her chest just tight enough to distract from how boring it is, slides her phone into her pocket that can barely fit it and headed downstairs to the diner.

The metal door swings open easily and she's greeted with the familiar heat of the kitchen, the pizza ovens humming a constant drone, scraping of dishes and utensils on steel counters, crunching of crumbs under boots, and her dad in the middle, hands on his hips, eyebrows raised and eyeing her outfit. "You're planning on working looking like that?" he said, trying not to laugh.

Natasha folded her arms and glared back. "I told you I ain't working tonight. I'm heading out with Lucy, and there isn't even that many people here for me to be needed, right?" She pretended to ignore being teased for her admittedly lousy outfit, and decided she was going to go ahead and change before leaving.

His eyebrows went from teasing to low and serious. "No need for lip. You barely been helping out lately, Marco's barely gotten a day off, and we need to be ready for just in case folks do come in. Yeah?" He folded his arms now over his dough splattered apron, while the thin skunk behind him looked up from the pizza he was spreading cheese on at hearing his name. "Marco, do you enjoy being in this kitchen every day picking up the slack for my daughter that can't be seen helping her poor fat old dad?" he asked behind him with an overly dramatic lilt.

Marco paused a second and said with a poorly hidden smirk, "I enjoy being paid, Mr Briar sir." before turning his attention back to the half-cheesed pizza. Her father groaned and muttered something that someone that doesn't speak Italian would assume were Italian cuss words, turned back to Natasha and said "Look, just, uh... Help out tomorrow night, at least, hey?" Her irritation faded and she nodded , a little embarrassed at being teased in front of her friend/coworker. She backed through the door and back up to her room, this time ditching the leather pants (that were already getting uncomfortable to wear just from standing in the kitchen for all of a minute) for some breathable leggings and a sleeveless skirt she was fond of; lightweight, a pretty dark blue, just low cut enough to be flattering but not revealing, AND it had a pocket she could keep her phone and half-empty pack of cigarettes in without having to worry about them falling out. Probably ideal for heading down to the club.

On her way out ducking through the kitchen, she patted her dad as she passed him scrubbing a crusted pan, he wearily said "Have fun, sweetheart." to which she jokingly said she'd try. Marco had finished his pizza and was flattening out some dough for the next one, did a quick double take at her and gave an awkward thumbs up at her as she passed. There were a few more customers than she had assumed, which made her feel a little more embarrassed at leaving to go party, but just to make it worse her mom walked in the front door carrying a delivery satchel with the Briar's logo sewn on to it and whistled at her, cooing "Is it date night tonight? D'you do your background checks, hon?"

"Jesus mama. Can I please just leave without getting shit on left and right? Please?" Tasha sighed in frustration, brushing past her mother and hearing her hiss_'language!'_ in her ear as she went out the door, and could feel the eyes of more than just her parents staring at the back of her head as she walked out into the muggy, yellow-lit street and started walking toward the Velvet nightclub.

Natasha has always enjoyed walking around town at night, the bricked sidewalks that checkered Podunk would still have some warmth from the heat of the Florida sun, if the wind was right you could smell the off-sweetness of brackish mud in the distance; maybe not the most ideal beaches around, but there was water there, at least. The chill sea air would make a miserable, sweltering day an afterthought during the night, meaning the night life would often be just as lively during the day, maybe with just fewer tourists stopping for a burger and some gas. She stepped over some old railroad tracks that haven't been used in years, probably only not ripped up because someone says they've got historical significance, like every other damn thing around. She silently thanks her dad for teasing her into changing her outfit, with how humid it was, she felt like she was already about to break a sweat, noticing how many of the storefront windows she passed had a thick blob of condensation on them. Rounding a corner with a carefully maintained palm tree in one of the many planters around town, she saw the large boxy structure of the nightclub at the other end of the block. There were some folks out front, talking on their phones or waiting for a ride to wherever they needed to go, and no line to get in.

The bouncer was a heavy-set boar with muscles that looked more than twice her size. He asked to see her ID, stared blankly at it for a few seconds, pulled a metal detector wand out of his back pocket and gave her some swishes, nodded her in and opened the front door for her, she nodded a thank you to the man that looked like he could pick up her dad and throw him, and headed into the muted thumping of the Velvet.

She tried to maintain her pace as she passed the groups of people congesting the hallway leading toward the main floor, the floors and ceiling bathed in pink and purple neon lights, pipes running along the walls that could only look good in a party place. The end of the hall faced her with the dance floor in the middle with several people dancing to some crappy trance music, a more populated bar to the right, backlit with rows and rows of shelves all stocked with bottles of drink, booths and tables off to the left, more sparse than the dance floor but easily less than the bar. A spiral staircase snaked up to a balcony that circled most of the room, probably where the more expensive bar is at. All of it monitored by stoic looking bouncers wearing the same black collared shirts as the one from the front door.

"Hey Tasha!" she hears faintly over the repetitive music, looking around she spots her opossum friend Lucy waving her over to the lounge area, sitting in a black tank top and matching shorts that looked like they might split at the seams. She heads over, head bobbing a little to the music, and bumps elbows with her when she gets to the booth. "Took you long enough, bitch."

"Sorry, too busy fuckin your dad," Natasha coos with a dramatic glare.

Lucy exhales equally dramatically, before grinning. "Sorry to hear that. What's going on, man?" They spend the next several minutes chatting about Natasha's family, Lucy's job at a lousy convenience store that they're not sure if her coworker is into Lucy or not. Tasha risked a suggestion to hang out with Marco again. The last time the two had hung out, there was an awkward fling where someone may or may not have confessed to love after 40 seconds of shenanigans in the theater parking lot. Something about a homeless person Lucy saw on the way there that was mumbling about aliens? Who knows, not her, fuck it. Natasha was nodding absentmindedly to her friend chattering about her trip over on the filthiest trolley car she had ever seen when they both jolted as the music ended and a real DJ started pressing buttons on the equipment that was playing pre-recorded music. The two stood from their booth and started meandering toward the dance floor, waiting excitedly for something fresh to start up. Other people from the bar start doing the same, switching places with some that were dancing before and probably needed a drink.

When the music started up and got going, the bass filled the air and pushed the crowd back an inch, Tasha could swear she felt her bones shaking. Light beams of yellow and white made twisting pillars through the purple-lit fog that started rolling out, and in no time at all the crowd was moving and bouncing to the world-shaking thumping. The club started filling up more and more now that the party had started, and just after a few minutes of amateurish dancing she started to figure she could use a break. She gestured toward the bar at Lucy, who gave two thumbs up and nodded, shimmying behind Natasha as they laughed and weaved their way through the crowd. They took seats on two red cushioned barstools at the end away from the DJ booth, Lucy asked for a white Russian and Natasha just asked for a cherry wine cooler.

While they were busy roasting each other for their choices in drinks, a well-toned coyote in a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up just before his elbows and black slacks took the stool next to Lucy, ordered a shot of vodka and introduced himself with one arm on the bar and the other on his hip, facing Lucy - who was very aware and very suddenly coy, Tasha thought. "Hope you're having a good time, ma'ams, you can call me Eddy if you like to," he downs the shot in one go, Tasha sees Lucy start tapping her knee and rolls her eyes into her own drink. "Y'all need anything?"

_ Not some muscled up shitbag looking for pussy,_ Tasha thought to herself as she took a sip. "I guess that'd depend on what you got on offer," she heard Lucy say just loud enough to be audible but grossly sweet. Guess he won't need to look very hard tonight. Tasha cleared her throat and said to them "We were just about to go back to dance some more, sorry, boss."

Eddy grinned at Lucy and a little less so at Natasha. "Now I ain't the boss here, but, I am pretty good friends with him. Feel like checkin' out the digs?" he gestured a solid hand up at the balcony towards the back of the room, where she could see a metal door with EMPLOYEES ONLY written on and over it in big red letters, with another bouncer standing guard next to it. Sure Lucy has never had a problem with an easy lay, but Tasha isn't so keen, she'd like to think. Naturally, Lucy agrees for the both of them, and Eddy gets up to lead them away after saying something to the bartender, and Tasha whispers loudly into Lucy's ear 'Are you fucking with me dude? We've barely been here fifteen minutes and you're already going to ditch me for some meat?' to which Lucy loud-whispers back 'Hey, man, we danced, had a drink, and I'm getting sick of this techno shit anyways! Try and live a bit dude,'

Tasha looks at the half-empty glasses, sighs, and follows her friend toward the stairs, where she is beckoned along, and she wonders if she would have had a better time sweeping up at the pizzaria.

After Eddy beckons to the bouncer that the girls are with him, they're all let through and are introduced to a room with desks, couches, a wardrobe in the corner, more doors going who knows where, one with a bathroom sign, but significantly less flashy décor than the main club just outside. And the club - were these windows always here? "We got a bunch of one-way mirrors set up," Eddy says as if reading her mind. "Sure we got cameras, but it never hurts to keep up with security, hey? You get a good view from here, see something off, just gotta say something through the walkie-talkies." "Wow," they both say, trying to act impressed and like they haven't ever heard of one-way mirrors.

In a foldout chair, looking severely out of place, sits a lanky fox wearing a white undershirt, torn jeans and boots that looked like they've seen use every day for years, tapping his foot and eyeing the three of them warily. He looked tired but alert, straightening up a bit and slipping a pack of cigarettes into his pocket when Eddy strode up to him. "Lorenzo, do me a solid? Keep an eye on the floor for a bit while I show, uh..." he gestures toward Lucy, who politely tells her name to the two. "While I show Lucy here the office a minute." Tasha crosses her arms and turns her back to them so she was facing out the window, watching the crowd jumping and dancing while she was playing third wheel to a couple that barely knew each other's names.

The fox named Lorenzo made a sound and stood while Eddy led Lucy into the room by the hand, and closed the door behind them. She heard his boots step on the old carpet up a few feet beside her. "Sorry 'bout Eddy. He's not known for thinking with the right head, but he's a good fella, asides from that.," he said in a deep drawl, catching her off guard. "I known him for a couple years now, never known him to take it slow. Don't know how he does it." Tasha turns and gives a weak smile in acknowledgment. "Y'ain't got to worry about her, he's a horndog and a half, sure, but he ain't a creep, if that's what's worrying you."

She sighs and shakes her head, watching a couple dance with each other hand-in-hand. "Lucy isn't new to leaving me to my own while she goes and gets dick." the flatness of it makes him give her a glance.

"Yeah. Yeah, I been there," he folds his arms too now, watching the crowd as well. "Honest to God, think I'd rather be out walking listening to Primo or some shit. Places like this're a bit loud for me," now it was her that turned without missing a beat.

"You listen to Primo?" she said with raised eyebrows. He nodded as if embarrassed and caught off guard.

"Have since elementary when mom'd burn CDs for me. Still can't choose a favorite album yet, but how can you play favorites with shit you love y'know?" She turned back toward the crowd, trying to think of something to say. He went on after a moment, "I don't mean to talk your arm off about old music, y'know. If you'd like I can leave you be-"

"No no, you're fine, dude. Honestly I guess I'm just irritated with her, I wanted to come out and have a good time, dance, drink, go down the riverwalk, and instead I'm stood up here in an office talking to a stranger about it," she glances back with an apologetic smile. "No offense, I mean."

He shakes his head, "Naw man, like I said, I been there." They stare dejectedly at the crowd some more. After a moment he clears his throat and offers out a hand suddenly, "I am Lorenzo, by the way."

She hesitates before shaking his hand, with her eyebrows raised in confusion. "Natasha." He nods, gives her hand one good shake and lets go. Okay? "What uh..." she starts, trying to avoid the sudden weirdness she feels. "What do you do here Lorenzo?"

He glances at her and back to the dance floor, "Help out the bouncers keep an eye on things, Eddy has me set up deliveries, uhhhh, I help mop up sometimes when folks leave a mess," and he lists off other menial things that sound like any other shitty job, but he sounds enthusiastic enough. "Course I don't know the first thing about the speakers or bartending or any of that shit, I'm fine with being stuck up here, most the time." he unfolds his arms, a little less tense after talking for a bit, and pulls out his cigarette pack and flips the top before pausing. "You mind if I smoke near you?"

She smirks, "Only if I can smoke mine," he gives a throaty laugh, offers to light her cigarette, and they stand there puffing away in silence for a minute, the tension creeping back into the air with the mentholated smoke. The people on the dance floor started to be replaced with new arrivals from outside, switching places with folks that were before at the bar or the lounging booths. How long had they been there now? According to her phone it was hardly half an hour. Natasha sighed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lorenzo fidgeting with his smoke. She glanced over, he gave a quick, awkward smile, she turned back, sighed. He cleared his throat again. "Hey er, if I may?" She looked back, giving a drag on her own smoke. "That top suits you well," he said cautiously. Oh god, here we go. Maybe she should have picked something with less boob showing- "The color, I mean! It uh, it, the blue it uh, compliments your gray fur, uh, hell," he starts stammering and tripping over his words, foot tapping again nervously. She stares a moment, not expecting a compliment like that.

After a moment of him grimacing in embarrassment, she softly says thank you before turning back once more. He gave a relieved smile. Lorenzo suddenly walks over to a desk, stamps out the butt of his smoke in a glass ashtray and carried it over back to her, taking care not to let the ashes kick up. She nodded in thanks and gingerly put our her own smoke, watching him take the tray back and set it down on the edge of the dark colored desk. "So, Lorenzo - that's a pretty Italian sounding name, isn't it?" he looks caught off guard and gives another throaty laugh.

"Sure is, mom's grandma was from somewhere in Sicily I think it was? She ain't taught any of them how to speak it though, thinking that it'd be better to be fully Americanizationed or whatever," he waved it off. "Sure as shit taught us how to cook though."

Natasha laughed, explaining how her dad's parents were from Sicily as well, and they joked about Italian family, talked about food they were brought up with, slang they heard a lot growing up. She had stopped feeling like time was dragging and before long she was having a good time again, getting along with this guy she normally wouldn't have given two thoughts towards aside from 'back off from me, dude.' After a few stories and some more cigarettes, she realized she hasn't heard anything from Lucy for a while. Standing up from the couch they had moved to, Lorenzo watched her open the door and quickly shut it again after seeing her friend straddled on top of Eddy the coyote, the only clothing between them the slacks that were hanging off one of his ankles. Lorenzo must have seen how flushed she looked, as he tried not to laugh. "I feel like going for a walk, want to come with?" she said quickly, to which he let his laugh out, said sure, and patted down his pockets to check if he had his stuff.

The way out of the Velvet felt more confined on account of how many more people were showing up throughout the night, when Natasha and Lorenzo finally got out of the club she couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief at how clear the air felt. It was still muggy, but there wasn't hot alcohol smelling breath coming at her from every angle, so it was an improvement. Lorenzo waved bye to the boar bouncer who looked like he was ready to fall asleep standing in his spot, and said for Natasha to lead the way. On the way to the riverwalk they discussed Primo albums, which led to them talking about other obscure music they liked, which was more in common than she would have thought.

The riverwalk itself wasn't much more than a wide, paved path going down the length of the river through Podunk proper; well-lit, plenty of benches, modern looking metal guardrails on the side to stop drunk or rowdy people from falling into the water. It was sparsely populated for a Saturday night, couples walking hand-in-hand looking at the city lights, groups of teenagers reeking of pot, being loud and laughing, some older folks sitting on the stone benches gossiping or discussing work. Every once in a while someone on a bike would pass by.

The distant drone of traffic was almost therapeutic for Tasha after the air-quaking volume of the music at the Velvet, maybe the same for Lorenzo, as he seemed more at ease as well. As if in tandem, they pulled out their cigarettes, he offered to light hers, she let him. They meandered down the pathway, taking care to not blow smoke in peoples' faces, she idly thought about her friend riding a stranger like that just as she was in the room next to her. She realized with a shiver that somehow, she was jealous while still pissed with Lucy. Eddy may have been gross - in her opinion, sleazy - but he was definitely a looker. And he went straight to Lucy.

Without thinking to stop herself she asked Lorenzo, "Am I off-putting?"

He blinked in confusion. "Off-putting?"

Well, it was probably already made weird again, she thought, fuck it. "Eddy went straight to Lucy, and I think he only acknowledged I was even there because I was with her." she shrugged and took a drag. "Then upstairs, you seemed pretty nervous, and I've been called a bitch more than a few times. By more than a few people."

Lorenzo furrowed his eyebrows at her, flicked his ashes over the rail into the still water below. "I can't speak for Ed. I will say, he's not known for thinking with the right head, and Lucy, err," he trailed off, trying to think of how to not sound like an ass. "Lucy seemed more like his type. If that makes sense."

Tasha frowned, choosing not to think about what that meant. He took a breath and continued, "and, I'll tell you now, I may've been nervous, but bitch weren't the word that came to mind." She looked at him, he was fidgeting with his cigarette butt again, gave a weak shrug and gestured out toward the water where a pontoon boat covered in string lights and flags was puttering through the water. "Feel like taking a breather? Watch the boats?"

She nodded and leaned against the railing, thinking about how she feels like she's done nothing but bitch and moan for a long time now, embarrassing herself to herself. She didn't need the break, in fact she would rather keep walking, but a distraction would be welcome. The pontoon boat seemed like it was barely moving with how slow it was in the canal, as if to show off the loud decorations they had put up for as long as they pleased. String lights snaked up the flag poles on the roof, faintly illuminating the Florida state flag, the USA flag, and the logo of the local hockey team. The folks on board probably having some beers, she thought, going back to their vacation house to pass out and wake up at noon the next day to barbecue some hot dogs and shitty hamburgers. She realized that Lorenzo had been watching her face carefully for a minute now.

"Natasha," he said softly as his scratchy voice could muster, watching the boat as it started to take the curve, disappearing from sight. "S'more to life than how many people would want to take you to bed, you know." She winced, not realizing she might have been sounding desperate. Before she could protest he continued, "I know that that's like uh, a very broad uh.... Generalizationing, I guess, but what I mean is to say comparing yourself to others'll only keep you behind. You feel me?"

Now she furrowed her eyebrows at him, muttering "Think so," and went back to staring at the water, now boatless, but still rippling from the light wake. She felt her eyes get hot, her breathing heavy, and when Lorenzo tenderly put an arm on her shoulder, she let herself croak out a quiet "Mother fucker," before choking back tears. He said nothing, just rubbing her back gently and occasionally taking a long drag from his smoke. After a few minutes she caught her breath, went to pull out another cigarette and gave a shaky huff when she saw that she had finished off the pack. Lorenzo offered the one he was working on, and she accepted it with a quiet thank you.

They started walking again not too long after, except now the opposite direction, after Natasha had checked her phone and exclaimed holy shit at seeing the time was almost 2 in the morning. Lorenzo asked if she would like him to walk her home, she nodded with an "if you don't mind," and they headed off toward the pizzaria. She explained to him that her dad was a dork who, aside from herself and her mother, loved nothing more than his restaurant, and wanted her to take over one day. When the restaurant came into view Lorenzo couldn't help but laugh at the logo; a fat, cartoony raccoon licking his lips and holding up a huge, dripping slice of pepperoni pizza. She shook her head in agreement, and stopped to face him when they were stood outside. They were both more than a little damp with sweat from the oppressive humidity as well as the long time they spent walking around town, his tank top sticking to his front a bit, showing a hint of defined, solid abs. She gulped, and tried to ignore the tingling she felt.

She stood there a few moments too long without saying anything, when he broke the silence, "Y'know, uh, I wouldn't've thought your family owned -this- place, let alone lived here. Came here more than a bit" She blinked and shrugged.

"You come here?"

Lorenzo nods and starts talking about the calzones that she herself might have helped make before, but stops himself before he gets carried away. "Hey, look, it's late as hell, been kind've a long night and all. I imagine you're ready to head on to bed, right?" he tries to smile politely but it comes off as feigned.

She fidgets with her keys, staring at a spot behind him. She really isn't. "Well, what would you wanna do?" Oh god, that sounded like a Lucy line.

He cocks his head in confusion. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it, one hand going to pick at his belt loop.

Her mouth went dry. She quickly wet her lips and gulped, gesturing in the front door and looking up at him, trying a quick guilty smirk. "I mean like - would you want to, come in and uh..." She was very aware of how red her face must've been. She sees his chest catch, hears him swallow, both hands fidgeting with his belt loops now.

After an agonizing moment, he gives a fake cough and a sheepish grin, saying softly, "If you want to? Lead the way, I say." Natasha fumbles with her keys and slowly, quietly, unlocks the front door of the pizzaria before stepping aside and leading him in, then through the empty dining area, through the now clean swept and silent kitchen, and up the wood stairs and down the hall, tip-toeing to avoid waking her parents further down where her dad was snoring, and into her room, where he softly closed the door behind them. She sits on the corner of her bed, her knees pressed together, watching him stand there and peer around at her messy room. His eyes linger on a Primo poster with a salty old sea-captain holding a ship's steering wheel in a storm, he gives it a genuine grin and a nod, before looking back down at her and giving the poster a point. "That one just don't get old," he loud-whispers. "Think I am a bit more partial to the Yella Book, just cause've the drumming, y'know?"

Natasha gives a shrug and responds "Oh sure, but that one's the first album Mama got me when I was a kid," to which he flicks his eyebrows and nods. She thought for a moment, couldn't think of anything to say, and pats the spot on the bed next to her. She hears him gulp and timidly tiptoe over, taking care not to drop himself on her bed. They sat there staring at the walls, the door, the clothes on the floor. Her hand opposite of him nervously clawing at the covers, him massaging his calloused hands with each other. She took a shaky breath, getting his attention, and gingerly offered her hand over to him, and after two seconds of hesitation he took a hold of it.

She heard him take a breath now, wet his lips and whisper slowly in his scratchy voice, "Natasha, we don't got to go any more if you don't want to." She looked over at him, who was still staring at a spot 20 feet behind the wall. "I know you got stresses and shit, and I ain't keen on taking advantage of them, know what I mean?"

She gave Lorenzo's hand a squeeze, prompting him to turn and focus his worried amber eyes on her. She offered a smile. "How about I let you know as soon as I'm keen to stop?" He gave a dumb grin in return, not knowing where to go from there. Since she had the thought it'd take a lot to get him to do anything more, she pulled on his hand and led it to her chest, where he caught his breath, let himself feel her, his hand a stark warmth on her. She let him timidly cup her, running his thumb over where her nipple was.

He took a deep, ragged breath, bringing his other hand around now, running it underneath her skirt, up her waist, pulling at her bra, Natasha leaned back a bit now with her own arms supporting her weight. When he made a motion for it, she let him pull her top off, it being dropped to the carpet next to her bed. She had to undo her bra for him, though, which got another gulp from him before he took her back in his arms. Before she realized it she was kissing him, and he was kissing her, and he was so warm, and-

"Tasha," he whispered into her neck, the nervousness in his voice replaced with eagerness. She let herself explore under his shirt now; solid, lean muscles, fluff where it was needed, his chest thumping away. Then she let her hand go lower, feeling the solid mass in his jeans that must have fit way too tight in the moment. She tugged at the button, and he took the initiative and undid them, pulling them down and kicking them off to the floor. She heard his length unceremoniously thwap against his belly as he laid back down next to her. She felt like she had forgotten to breath for a while, and took some hot, ragged breaths as one of his hands led themselves down her waist again, grasping her thigh, silently convincing her knees to separate with barely a touch. She had to bite her lip when he let himself roll down her leggings, her panties, her bits feeling very cold being exposed to the air now. His warm, solid hand coming near, massaging with a thumb, holding her leg with the rest -

Natasha's head was swimming, her limbs were like jelly, he was pressing against her hip now, dripping into her fur. She whispered "Lorenzo," with hot breath, he was almost laying on top of her now. He stopped what he was doing and looked in her eyes with the nervousness she had seen so much from him in the little time they knew each other. "Love me" she managed, and saw his eyes show a different kind of softness, not fear, but compassion.

"No needa tell me twice," he whispered back, straightening himself up and straddling on top of her, his bits throbbing on hers, dripping just below her belly button, his jewels pressing against her button and sending sparks through her body. He pulled back, prodding, trying to find his way in, and they both gasped when he found it, he took her hips in his hands, and after an hour or so of antics, they were fast asleep, her back to his front, curled together and snoring quietly.