Double Back

Bottom Of The Bottle

Sybil pushed open the bedroom door with her elbow, balancing a tray of tea in her other arm. The smell of liquor could be smelt from halfway down the hallway but when she opened the door the smell of vomit also hit her nose. Chase had been like this for weeks on end, shut up in his room, only emerging when in need of more liquor. What was Sybil to do but take care of him, she had no where to go and no one to see, so she now found that it was her duty to care for this sick man.

When she saw the disaster that was his room, her face shrivelled up in disgust. There where clothes everywhere and the bed had not been made in days, what little books he had where ripped to shreds on the floor and she had to mind her step as there was a trail of vomit leading to the small, dirty bathroom. The red hair man lay curled up in the small green armchair in the corner of the room, he wore nothing but boxers and even from where she was standing she could see the tears still running down his face. She placed the small tray of tea on the coffee table in front of the chair. As the poured two cups of tea she began plot the cleaning of his room once more. She walked back down the hall to a small closet at the top of the big white staircase which had once been so dirty that it was premaritally stained grey. Since the death of her friend, she had taken it upon herself to prepare the house for when Chase would be feeling better. Sybil returned to his room carrying a mop and a bucket which she filled with soap and water from the sink, she then began to mop up the trail of puke along with the layers of dirt and grime.

"You know I can take care of myself Sybil." Chase said sleepily having just woken up from a drunken slumber. She was surprised his speech almost sounded whole.

"From what I can tell you haven't been able to take care of yourself for a long time. Sit up and drink your tea, and put a shirt on." She said in her most mature voice.

"Why do the british always think that tea is the cure for everything?" Chase asked in a mocking tone.

"Usually because it simply is."

They continued in silence as they did everyday, Sybil cleaning whatever she possibly could and Chase watching her every move. Usually by this time he would have began to sip his next bottle but today was different, today he promised himself he would change. He wanted to move on, the death of his sister took a big tole of him, but he needed to mend. It wasn't Sybil's job to take care of him, he could do that himself. He watched in awe as she moved around the floor, her large hips curving around the slightest bend. When she caught him watching her, he quickly altered his gaze to the window, blushing. Sybil approached him with caution and helped him to his feet. When he stood he was at least a head taller than she was so her face was right on his chest, she began to back away when she stepped on an old pencil and slide back, just before she hit the floor she felt a strong hand grab her back and another one on her bum. When she was back on her feet starring at Chase, he did not move his hand, but rested it there for a moment.

"Watch your step" he mumbled softly into her ear. He leaned back slightly brushing his nose up against her ear and across her cheekbone. Sybil felt relaxed as a warm sensation rushed over her body, she grabbed the back of his neck and stared at him as if asking "is this what you want?" When he did not move she pulled his head to her face and he leaned in, when their lips touched he felt no sorrow, Sybil's lips where soft and her kiss was perfect. As for Chase, he held Sybil in a snug embrace which she made tighter by pressing up against him hard. He pulled her onto the bed, tearing off her clothes one layer at a time until she was left in nothing but some thin lace underwear and a lace brazier. She practically jumped on top of him and they did not separate for hours, it wasn't needed and it most certainly wasn't wanted.