Thwaites & Thompson

Fuck up

Thwaites

But then the events of the day play in my mind and something intrigues my curiosity from earlier today.

"Tess?" I call out.

"Yeah?" She replies.

"What was your win?"
"The first time you went all in and I asked you to expose your cards and you didn't." I ask and smile when I hear her chuckle.

"I had a nine and an ace, and there were two nines on the table, that makes three of a kind with an ace kicker..." She pauses.
"But then another ace appeared, it made it a full house..." She concludes and my eyebrows shoot in the darkness.

"Wow..." I grin to myself and she giggles softly.

"You are good." I nod to myself.

"Yourself..." She adds.

"You bluff a lot though..." She chuckles and I squint in the darkness.

"How do you know that?" I scoff.

But it was true...
How did she know that? Really...

"Just a gut feeling." I feel her shrug.

Oh...

"I don't bluff-a lot..." I shook my head and I felt her laugh mutely.

And then I asked her the most irrelevant question...

"Tess, don't you miss your sister?"

She takes a moment before she replies.

"I do..."
"All the time." I feel her chest fall shakily.

Mine barely lifts...

Then later at night, I dream of Tally and wake up in the middle of the night terribly shaken, drenched in my own sweat...

Thompson

I fuzz awake and turn to stare at Adam's back.
He was seated up, panting heavily.

He had his bedside lamp switched on, I squinted at the light.

I open my mouth to say something but then my mouth hangs when he pulls off his shirt and tosses it aside.
His back was glistening...

He raked through his hair repeatedly and took several deep breaths.

He turns to glance at me before I speak and I notice that his eyes were bloodshot and restless.

He gets to his feet and walks to his closet, pulling out another shirt that he puts on.

He opens the drawer of his bedside table and pulls out his tobacco box.

Just before he exits to his balcony he turns to me.

"I'll be right with you Tess." He spoke and I instantly nodded.

I laid my head back down and slightly pulled the cover to my chin.

My heart was beating furiously that even I was starting to sweat.

I watched him through the glass with the curtain moving with the wind back and forth. He sat there rolling a cigarette hurriedly.

It was only moments until he was lighting it.

He took the first deep inhale and shut his eyes hard, slowly tilting his head back, allowing the smoke to ooze out of his nostrils and from between his lips.

He opened his eyes again and although he looked restless and it was out of question, I saw the pain in his eyes...
In the way he stared into oblivion as if the world was doing him so much injustice.
He had one hand fisted hard, his thumb caressing his whitened knuckles.