𝑨𝒄𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒕 • Neil Perry & Todd Anderson

ᴍᴀʀɪᴇ

Marie awoke when the door of the apartment opened. Neil came in, took off his coat and went about the apartment as usual. She layed quietly, attempting to swallow down the aftermath of her night on the town.

Her memories were blurred by the liquor but she mustered up the basic details. She finished grueling hours at the cafe. Saw Suze on her way home. Went in the opposite direction of home and followed her to a bar. There, they met with bob and a few of his friends. The rest she couldn't recall except chugging shots and beers and dancing around.

Now she felt absolutely hungover.

It was what she assumed sunset but the sun peering through the windows still burned her eyes and made her head ache.

"Are you really just waking up now?" Neil called from the kitchen as he warmed his hands over the yapping kettle.

   "Yes and will you turn that dreadful thing off. I'm sure half of New york could tell you it's boiling." She grumbled.

   "Yeah, yeah. I'll make you a tea?" He settled new cups on the counter.

    "Please. No sugar. Just milk."

    "On the way, madam."

    "Ah is that french i hear, monsieur?" Marie wrapped her blanket tighter about her figure and shuffled into the kitchen. She settled herself in the chair, Todd's chair, by the window overlooking the street, jammed with cars. "Do you know where Todd is?"

   "No, I thought you did." Neil placed a steaming tea in front of her. She wrapped her hands around it. The heat burned her skin in a way that comforted her. She let the strong spices fill her nose.

   "I have no idea where he is."

   "He didn't mention anything?" Neil sat next to her with questioning eyes that bore into her.

   "If he did, i can't remember. I can't remember much of anything." She sipped on her tea. Neil stared at her.

   "What do you remember?" His voice was lower than before. He played with his hands. His eyes fluttered down. She remembered that too.

I remember the way your hands felt on ny cheek. I remember the subtle taste of your lips. How you smell of libraries and coffee in the most delightfully sickening way. She bit her tongue.

"I remember last night." She muttered between her loud sips of tea. From behind the steam, she saw the freckles on Neil's cheeks disappear in the blush. Perhaps her face looked no different.

    "Well." Neil stated matter of factly. "Where does that leave us?"

    "I don't know. Whatever you want, I suppose."

   Uncomfortable silence enveloped them.

    The streets were loud outside. It was unreasonably cold in the apartment. The drank their tea. One shuffling in their chair, the other dangerously still and vice versa.

    They could be holding hands above other things. They could be estranged and awkward for whoever knows how long. Marie wanted one but knew they were bound for both. Neil? He was preoccupied with his friend.

    The morning with Todd played in his mind. His eyes were so cold. Was he intending to be so dismissive and cold forever? He couldn't bare the thought let alone the reality.

    A warm softness enveloped his hand. Marie sensed Neil's uneasiness. She always did and immediately it melted away. They sat and let the heaviness of the day wash away and into the winter.