The entire evening and night were spent indoors, something that Matt was not used to but was getting well accustomed to. Somehow, during the war, a chemical accident had occurred impairing his and her abilities to want out. They ordered Chinese and had it on a small table that Matt liked to refer to as his dining table. It would have collapsed under the weight of one plate but it held up for the respect of Matt’s guest.
Through the door that led to a small balcony and a fire escape, a cool and lazy breeze found its way to the apartment as Susan cleaned up the dishes. Standing by the sink, she was quite a beauty. Her pinkish and almost see-via night dress left little to imagination, not that Matt needed any but this made his heart beat excitedly. It seemed more like an extra large t-shirt reaching only below her bottom and revealing long and slender legs. Even though he had peaked when she had stepped in to the shower earlier on, he found it hard not to look. He almost lost track of time as his mind planned breaking the ceasefire as if he had found a weakness on the enemy or one had been found on him and the only way to cover up was to be the first to strike.
The breeze came to his rescue by exciting papers and threatening to blow them away if they were not tended to immediately. It almost struck the weak point that Matt had discovered. He grabbed his mail and papers by the book shelf and stuck them in between two big books. Susan aware of what he had been contemplating smiled and busied herself although she was done dealing with the mess.
Two bottles of wine stood drained under the sink beside the waste can, two more were in the cupboard, one bottle of hard liquor was on the table. If Matt was a drunk, it was hard to tell. He certainly handled his alcohol well and unlike most guys, he got sweeter as more alcohol found its way into his blood streams. Susan still felt tipsy and was not sure if she or Matt had had more to drink. Alcohol unlike war, was good, felt good and created a craving when the moment was right. The only thing that alcohol and war had in common was that the aftermath was always disastrous, impoverishing the survivors, at least in the short term.
They settled for a movie and more rounds of drinks for the rest of the evening. They watched Tears of the sun starring Bruce Willis with their legs stretched over the bed that retracted from under the sofa. Ikea stuff. The bed cover over their legs was like a complement to the wine; ensuring that they were warm. As guns blasted off and grenades went off over Matt’s home theater system and more people died and body parts were thrown about, Susan huddled on to him. His grip on the almost empty bottle wine hardened. The effects of the chemistry between them still lingered and they now took the wine like an oath, from one dish – the bottle and in poor lighting.
The ipod came to life again after the movie was over and went on for almost ten hours in a low volume. The 42″ flat screen went off in no time and darkness filled the studio. The troops went back to the battleground as diplomacy failed and another war erupted. It went on and off until the wee hours of the night. The armies fell exhausted on ground zero.
susan and matt S1E3