He slipped his shoes off, leaving his socks on, as he sank back into his chair. Closing his eyes while he sipped on another beer, he tipped his head back to enjoy the last song on side B. He didn’t notice she was watching him, lying backwards in his bed, making a mental note of this accidental smile.
“That fucking candle went out again,” he said trying to cool the wax before it ruined the wick.
“What an asshole,” she replied with ambivalence. One less candle wouldn’t make a difference.
The digits on the clock were increasing. The shots, and beer, and cocktails made the time seem irrelevant. The music wasn’t stopping. The laughing grew louder, more uncontrollable, their voices hoarse from conversation. What would have usually been a night spent respectfully annihilating a pack of cigarettes turned into a longing for a life in the 1970’s, holey t-shirts, beaded doorways, and weed.
“But then the house would smell like weed.”
“But that’s why we’d get incense.” She prided herself on fine-tuning the details.
As the sun threatened the open window, the noise grew faint. The musicians sang deeper. Their faces closer as he whispered information in her ear she’d never understand. Their heavy eyelids fighting sleep, fighting tomorrow. She pulled the blanket over their heads; they breathed each other’s air.
“I’m dead,” she said.
“You’re not dead,” he mumbled as he lazily tried to revive her.
“What if I just died every time someone said something I didn’t like?,” She mumbled back, her face glistening with sweat.
“What if you could decide to just stop breathing?”
“What if you actually had control over anything?
They turned to face each other, in complete darkness; searching for eyes they had no chance of finding. Without a word spoken they let out a breath.
Undoubtedly some friend would find them; both lifeless, only heads covered by a blanket in the summer sun. The candles would have burned out, the record playing an unwavering static. There would be rumors. A story. A great mystery like the kind she used to love. They’d be a mystery. A present day Mulder and Scully who’d succumb to their own desire to experience the unknown. But those closest to them would know, they'd done something original. Together they just stopped submitting to the most natural obligation. Freeing themselves from the decisions that the rest of us are plagued with. Letting that night remain eternal.
