Rhett's Pain

Havermouth, Present Time

They sat with their shoulders propped up companionably on the headboard, the sheets tangled around their legs, the sex-sweat drying on their skin, and sipped whiskey whilst they shared a joint. She sighed on the exhale and rested her head on his shoulder, perfectly content in the moment.

“Heath would tell me off,” Rhett said as he took the joint. “He disapproves of the smoking, nicotine or otherwise, especially inside.” He said as he blew out the smoke, returning it to her.

“Of course, he does,” she laughed. “Mr Responsible.”

“Hmm,” he leaned his face into her hair to deliver his kiss to the curls. “Five years,” he said.

“Five years?” She frowned in confusion and regarded the joint in her fingers in accusation for her slow comprehension, and then realization dawned. “Ah, Rhett, let’s just not,” she complained. “We are all mellow and relaxed after amazing sex… Plus, we agreed, it’s in the past…”

“For five years I would draw you,” he said with determination (if