Radio Waves of the Macabre [On Hiatus]

Chapter 18 - Waiting (Part 2)

Her gaze raced across every inch of the room, scouring for a hiding place. As she searched, the sheet slipped away and she could feel the chill of the AC against her bare skin, goosepimpling her flesh.

Amidst the pounding of her head and the racing of her heart she found herself for the briefest of moments struggling to remember when and why she had stripped down to her 'sexy' bra and underwear instead of her nightshirt and sweats. Damn wine. What had she expected of the evening after David had disappeared on her? And even if she had expected that the night could be salvaged, did he deserve a romantic night after the evening she'd had waiting for him? Of course, it wasn't always about him, was it?

And why the hell are you thinking about this now?

She slid silently from the sheets, pressing herself to the floor and peering below the bed and out to the bedroom doorway. A light flicked on in the living room, and with it came a sudden realization.

Who turns on a light when they are robbing you?

"David," she yelled, "is that you?"

"Uhhh..." he groaned as he stumbled through the bedroom doorway. Suddenly the fear drifted away, leaving Erika cold and nauseated, but at least no longer afraid.

One look and she could see that he'd done more drinking than she had by far - something that was completely unlike him. Yet, as he shuffled towards the bed, lurching and groping for support along the way, there could be no doubt. He was plastered.

And that's all it took.

Her anger didn't wash away, but it slid down, buried somewhere deep inside. She knew that she should be mad at him, but in that instant all that she could muster was concern - weak, infuriating concern.

"David?" She asked more than said, as she made her way towards his side of the bed. "Are you okay?"

"Uhhh...," he groaned again, pulling back the covers. He didn't even seem to notice that she was standing nearly naked right in front of him - his focus squarely on the mattress and passing out.

"What happened?" she continued, and for a moment she thought that she might have broken through to him.
David paused, his glossy stare fixated on her, and it seemed that he wavered there on the precipice of speech. When at last Erika was certain he would open up, he plopped down onto the bed, right on top of the covers that he had pulled back for apparently no reason whatsoever.

Erika shook her head. "You're going to need some water," she said, and then turned and headed to the kitchen.
At last, a muffled reply sounded softly from David's nearly comatose form.

"You're the best."

Erika paid him no mind, not even bothering to respond as she filled a glass from the filtered pitcher in the fridge. She knew that she should probably confront him in the morning, and yet at the same time she knew that she would likely say nothing - or at least nothing about how he had ruined her plans or about the worry that he had caused. No, she'd play the concerned girlfriend. That's what she did. She helped.