Happier.

8. kindred spirits

He laughed as she expected, then struck her with something she never would have. "I ain't even knew they had a new album out! You know you gotta let me sit here and listen to the whole thing, right?"

"Hang on, you actually like these guys?!" She asked, stunned. "Like unironically?"

"Yeah! Babel got me through a lotta shit." Laughed Eli. "My ex hated this, though. She used to tease me about it a lot." Suddenly, he went silent and resigned within the bottle of his beer. "Sorry..." He murmured. "Shouldn't have brought her up. I'm supposed to be over it by now."

Then, just when he was worried that the discomfort was setting in, Frances buried herself deeper into the cushions before asking him, "What happened, exactly?"

And with a conflicted shrug, he answered. "She was already engaged. Or at least... She was plannin' on it. Either way, she cut me off. Now she with someone else."

The sympathy brought Frances to frown at him. From the tone in his voice, she'd already felt regret for urging the answer out. And Eli could notice that. Her crystal blue eyes were aimed low to the ground. The moment between them grew more lamentable than the music.

Apologetically, he removed himself from the equation of the sofa and from the moment altogether. "Anyways, um... Thanks for the drink. But I still gotta get ready to go and all that." Clinging the bottle tightly between his fingers, Eli stood and walked towards the door.

Then, in a quiet enough tone, Frances gave into her confession as well. "He chose someone else too." He stopped himself before his fingers could twist the knob, but even with his back turned, he listened to whatever else she could give of her admission. "We met in college. Then, I took a job up here. The plan was that he'd move up sometime next month. But he met someone else."

Slowly, Eli turned back. He leaned against the door frame, looking on to Frances as she remained on the couch. But soon enough, he walked back over to her, finding his seat again.

And with the reunion of his proximity, Frances smiled some. "I've been meaning to throw that picture away, but I can't bring myself to do it yet. We had history, more than I ever thought I'd have with anyone. When he told me that it was over, it was like I lost more than enough of myself to feel the same again. All of me - all the best memories - they were his now."

"You miss him?" 

"Do you miss her?" 

Quietly, Eli looked back down, with a nod slowly coming to life to her question. "Honestly, I ain't really sure how I'm gonna forget about her." 

"You won't," She said to him. "I haven't forgotten about mine. The ones that broke your heart are the hardest to wish away. The best thing you can do is to just keep going, just like they are right now." 

And after the last sip of her beer, she couldn't keep away the shameful giggle erupting from her throat. The buzz in her system was starting to linger more bluntly. Looking her way back up to him, she fell under the thin veil of yearning that was only getting thicker. 

She was betrayed by the very urges she's hidden from herself. That it wasn't just the breakfast she entered that apartment hoping to enjoy. The connection between them was mystifying then, something she wasn't sure she was ready to explore.

But now, it was all laid out before her, as were her own vulnerabilities. Given that this would be her only chance to seize whatever liquored up confidence she could get her hands on, Frances reached out.

Her long, delicately thin, ivory fingers laced themselves atop the surface of his dark backhand. She caught the way he stared at her then. Almost puzzled but not too surprised, for she had then wondered if maybe it was the alcohol getting to him too.