They are both drunk. They sit with legs crossed in the middle of the small room. The lights are off, but there are a few candles burning. The candles flicker little light.
He is playing the guitar and singing, yet it is almost a whisper. The scene is comfortable and mellow.
She speaks. Not intending to alarm or offend him in any way. He looks at her with hate in his eyes. piercing. hypnotizing. He spits in her face. Extremely surprised and hurt she wipes the spit off with the palm of her hand. She stares into his eyes trying to comprehend.
She is usually very in control of her emotions, but as a tear appears from her eye and rolls down her cheek, she becomes angry. Angy with herself and with him, of course.
She looks into his eyes as deep as she can go in that tortured soul and says through her clenched teeth, "Do it again, you bastard!" He gets ready to spit, challenging her, then breaks down crying. She is confused. touched. The anger melts away. She tries to comfort him and he falls asleep in her arms.
She pities him.