Between the two of us, we're halfway through the bottle when a lady invites herself into the booth across from us, "Excuse me," she interjects, "but if you don't want to finish that whole bottle, I thought we could share." She looks me in the eyes, a glimpse of light breaking through the canyons, the dark clouds clearing past ahead. The gentleman from before returns, "I can offer up another bottle, miss, if you'd like to share with the train."
I glance at Geddon, absorbed inwardly, messing with his hands. I hand the bottle to her, and given a second, the woman smiles, curtsies, and heads back into the train to begin sharing as laughter begins to break among a crowd of rebels and between the Velvry sharing small talk, the Yethic dirge concluding into a triadic chorus. I'm left to a sphere of privacy with Geddon, muttering to himself, seeing in him the depth of his insanity, seeing him grapple tribulations he faces from within. Not knowing the extent of what he faces, feeling the vulnerability of the moment, and drunkeness coming upon me, and thinking back to the moment I stepped foot upon the train and found Geddon, when I had become intent on closing into his proximity, I find it prosperous in my mind to sidle up beside him, moving ever so gently from my seat next to him—I choose the side with more room, by the aisle. The tension of his madness softens toward my warmth, a tactile relaxation as my docile hands ply at his trunk. My head pushes into his shoulder. Naturally an arm folds around me, and tenderness manifesting now I find his presence rejoining. Holding him closer, now, and wishing for nothing but comfort, I gander up to see sweet glistening eyes, his wonderfully dark face stark with sadness. But it's his lips which captivate me, perfect, tender and sympathetic. Locking my eyes on his tells him that I want to kiss, and what follows is joy and rapture, fruity wetness and perfect belonging, a moment out of time, not to be scrutinized, but hollow in a love inchoate, and thus our kiss digresses easily, but not without a parting bite, and I find myself rested in his arms where, the sun coming upon us once more, I become lost to sleep.