The Last Peel

"From the beginning, the only thing I couldn't tolerate about you was how impossible you were to ignore."- Jennifer Delucy 

There were four bottles of red wine and one white wine -- an assortment of Merlot, Carbanet Sauvignon and Sauvignon blanc -- standing upright on a sheet of synthetic grass in the balcony of a KL café. 

Muffled excitement, subtle jokes, puffs of tobacco and a hint of exhaled marijuana were golden youths under a starless night sky. 

"Cheers! To the last kopek."

Wine glass chinked against wine glass. The eager gurgled while the bourgeois sipped. Chatter resumed. We talked about dreams and love and responsibilities and age. The grass was warm to the touch, as were their hearts. 

So many things to gain and so little to lose. He asked, "So how was it like?" But how could it be any different? A more apt question would be the plans and the direction decided upon, of which would be answered as such:

"I'm travelling solo towards Nowhere; I wouldn't mind bunking with a fellow traveler during the journey."

"Yeah. Whatever happens, happens."

"Cheers to that."

Another question was raised en route to the car, regarding the after party that was, unbeknowest to him, non-existent. 

"But why?"

"I live in a nunnery."

A reckless laugh, and a request for confirmation of safety. It was pointed that he was just as tipsy, and a possibility of some sort of liaison was enunciated. Alcohol, it was due to the alcohol. 

A greeting, or rather farewell, peck on the cheek came with the embrace that followed the last hearty chuckle. Thirty seven degrees of human warmth and musk. 

That was all there is to it on a burgundy night.