More wine? Sure, because that’s what they needed. Malina pushed the carton of spoiled milk aside, in favor of her last bottle of red. Her blonde hair had fallen in her face from laughing too hard at Kellan, expertly playing the piano stone drunk. As she settled back next to him, she placed the bottle on the surface of the instrument.
“The fuck was that?” her lips smelled of cherry, and her skin of late night perfume.
He paused, with large hands floating over the keys. “Bach,” he motioned for her to play along. “I know you know this one, it’s famous.”
Malina moved her slender fingers over his rough ones. “I’ll show you something,” she insisted, resting her chin on his shoulder.
“Something from the ole’ country?” he teased, chucking underneath his breath.
“Sweden is not the country,” she protested a little louder than what deemed as an inside voice. “Besides aren’t’ you from Texas?” she whispered suddenly.
“Fuck no,”
Delicately, pressing his fingers in to the keys like he was made of glass, Malina studied the way his eyes averted, undoubtfully learning the melody right there and then. “That’s it,” she grinned at his impressive ability.
“What is this song called?” Malina pulled away, watching his sudden stiff musicality take over. That’s when she suddenly remembered that he was deaf, and couldn’t hear a sound of it.
Although, he faltered through a couple tries, his playing improved the more he continued. Kellan even ended up adding his own flair. Possibly making the song sound better.
“It doesn’t have a name,” she smiled.
After he finished changing the last bit to softer notes, Kellan turned to look her in the eyes, while slowly pushing the keyboard cover downward. “I bet it sounded lovely,”
Biting her bottom lip, Malina found herself eyeing his own. “It did,”
Malina kept her hold there, slightly rubbing the back of her ear. No one knew she did this when she was nervous. Chances are, no one has even seen her nervous.
Looking back at the closed piano, Kellan placed his own hand top of hers. “I wanted to talk to you about something,”
“What?” her eyes averted to his grasp. Slightly hoping he didn’t notice her lingering stare.
Still looking onward at the instrument, Kellan found it hard to cajole the right words. Words that he never wanted to say, but would have been shaded for if he didn’t.
“I can’t keep doing this” he began, slowly turning to look her straight in the eye. “I can’t get drunk around you, and smile like our lives are fine”
“What do you mean? I thought we were having a good ti-.”
“We’re always worrying about some upper level shit.” He spat, cutting her off. “And anytime I want to see friends or family, I’m over here, stressing about whether a fucking sniper is on my back. Or, if this shitty wine is poisonous.” Malina snatched her hand from his hold, while crossing both arms.
“What’s the alternative? Huh?” she cried. “Hiding out in Africa? Fucking around in the streets?”
“You think I hid out in Africa?” he laughed at that bit, snatching the wine bottle, and pouring a heap in to his glass. “Fuck around in the streets?”
“That’s not what I meant,” moving away from him, Malina stood from the bench, and started towards the kitchen. “I used the word wrong,” she muttered, while pressing her palm against her forehead.
And as soon as she thought he couldn’t see her, she whispered, “Shit,”
After spending, a few more seconds collecting herself, Malina swirled around to see Kellan, leaning in on the door frame.
“Who do you think I am?” he pressed the tip of his wine glass to his lips, while burying his other hand in his pocket.
Malina stood there for some good fifth-teen seconds with nothing to say. What did he want? Did he want her to evaluate him? Or choke up some bullshit story?
“I don’t know?” she shrugged. “Just don’t ever fucking cut me off,”
“I cut you off?” he took another sip.
Malina’s thumb and pointer finger met her temple. “Yeah, you did.”
With a short smile, after finishing his glass, Kellan strolled over to the sink and began washing it out. Then became shortly caught up with doing the rest of the dishes.
“Fucking stop,” Malina murmured.
While pulling the holder from the drain, after finishing what remained, Kellan glanced out the small window over the sink, to see two kids at play. “I won’t cut you off again. I’m sorry,” As the water begin to swirl out, Kellan grabbed one of the drying towels hanging beside her stove.
“You don’t have to,” she tried again, starting towards him. “Let me. I’ll finish,”
After taking the towel from his hands, Malina moved in front of him, completely cutting Kellan off from the dripping plates.
Backing away to undoubtfully let her take over, Kellan found himself eyeing her hour glass figure. “You never come up,” he paused, “To Africa,”
Malina felt his eyes, but choose not to look back. “I did. One time,”
Suddenly, a very vivid image of his grasp on her jaw line, and the heated fit he left her to sleep in, popped in her mind.
“I fixed up the place. Got a bigger garden,” he continued.
Trying not to eye her, Kellan looked down at his boots. “That’s nice.” She said finishing up.
“Maybe I’ll swing by in a few months,” closing his eyes, while shaking his head towards the floor, Kellan grinned.
“Can I get the wine next time?”
“What’s wrong with my wine? Huh?” her eyes lit up. “Too much to handle?”
“It’s not working.” He moved forward as if to stretch his back. “I still want to touch you,”
The words slipped faster than his brain could track.
Malina took a small step back, unsure if she’d heard right. And eventually, the silence in the room proved all suspension correct. He had cracked, and still thought about that night they shared.
“I should leave,” he muttered, turning towards the door.
“I’ll visit.” She told. “Next week.”
Kellan shrugged, “You don’t have to. It was a stupid suggestion.”
“No. It wasn’t.” she piped tossing the cloth on the dinner table, “Just promise me something,”
‘What?”
“Don’t wear that stupid hat around me. I don’t give a damn if your going grey,”