A/N: Wowowowow. Sorry it took me so long to update this story. What's it been, like a year? I'm gonna check the date. OMG! March 3! That's not even half a year, so I guess I wasn't very close. But crap, five months! Sorry about that. Thanks for being patient. (That's assuming someone will read this and you haven't all given up on me.) Read this chapter and review, pronto! I wanna know what you guys think. And if I don't get any…or many…reviews I'll wait that long to update again! (And I bet you think I'm kidding, winkwink)
Chapter 2 of Lightning Never Strikes the Same Place Twice
Charred Remnants
Scarlett quickly brushed by Rhett towards the kitchen before she even knew what she was making her husband to eat.
Husband.
It was laughable, really, the situation they were in. but she could think about all of that later. Right now she was focusing on breathing normally.
Once she entered the kitchen she exhaled loudly. She could think better in here. Things in the past five or six minutes had happened so fast that she felt slightly out of breath. She hurriedly tried to process the information: a month ago Rhett had left her crying for him on the steps of their home. Now, he returned and she yelled at him for doing so.
Where had all of her resolutions concerning Rhett and how she was going to be a better person now that she knew the consequences of being a spoiled girl gone?
She knew where they had gone. Although, technically speaking, they had never really gone anywhere. She had never had them.
She had thought about them plenty over the last month, but she had decided she had more important things to focus on. Besides, she definitely had not counted on Rhett's return to be so soon…if ever.
She was sure she had destroyed all hope of that when she had practically groveled at his feet for him to stay. She shuddered thinking about it. That wasn't how she was planning on acting this time.
But…how was she going to act this time?
Damned if she knew. Her actions when she was in Rhett's vicinity were unable to be explained. She always acted irrational and, she had to admit it, somewhat foolish. Oh well. Repeating her mantra, she'd think about it later.
She hurried to make Rhett's meal, but she burned it due to her lack of attention.
Oh well.
It was Rhett's fault she had burned it anyway. She had been too busy thinking about him to fully focus.
She scraped the makeshift dinner out of the pan and piled it on a plate.
It looked disgusting. So much for her being able to cook.
She walked through the enormous kitchen to the dining room. The huge table seemed ridiculous. It sat twelve. She slammed the plate onto the cherry wood table, then remembered that it was a cherry wood table and swore at the effect of her anger on the table.
"Rhett!" she called shrilly.
She felt his presence in the room before she saw him.
She literally felt his presence in the room before she saw him. He had pulled her against him and whispered against her neck, "Dinner looks…"
She whirled around and glared at him before he could finish his sentence. He was laughing at her, even if she couldn't hear the distinctive laugh itself. She could tell by his eyes.
"Delicious?" she finished, poking fun at herself, but letting him know that she wouldn't tolerate his being part o fit.
"Of course." He pulled the chair from underneath the table and offered it to her before seating himself in front of his charred dinner. "Wine, please."
Scarlett shot him a look before returning to the table with two wine glasses and an unopened bottle of red wine. She poured one glass and was in the midst of pouring the other when the thunder clapped loudly, startling her. The wine sloshed down the side of the glass, pooling on the table. She covered the mess with a napkin and sat back down.
She nursed the wine like it was instead a glass of brandy, and peered across the table at Rhett. She didn't know what to say to him.
Before she could attempt to string a sentence together Rhett asked absent-mindedly, "More wine, Scarlett?"
"No thanks," she said, and swished her glass a little to illustrate her full cup.
The glass was practically empty. How had that happened? Had she been mulling that long?
"Actually, yes. More wine would be divine," she replied, then giggled at her unintentional rhyme. The second cup of wine did the trick. Relaxing a little, she talked to Rhett for the first time all meal, barring the "More wine?" conversation they had just had. "Sorry I'm not much company. I don't really know what came over me." The second part was in reference to her actions upon his arrival, but she was relatively sure that was understood.
"Both are forgiven."
They carried on with the small talk and by the time Scarlett was reaching for her fourth glass of the wine she was two sheets to the wind, but as the drunk usually are, blissfully unaware of it. She reached for the bottle and grabbed it in one hand.
"Oh dear, almost empty," she said, bringing the bottle over her glass to pour it. It was at this moment that the room flashed bluish-white and a loud clap of thunder, the loudest yet, resonated through the house. The thunder had startled her so that she had once again completely missed her glass, causing wine to stream down the table, most of it landing right in Rhett's lap.
"Shit," she said at the thunder, and then when Rhett stood up quickly at the newfound liquid n his lap, "Uh oh, someone spilled."
Picking up her napkin she walked around the table and stopped in front, napkin poised to wipe away the mess. It clearly hadn't yet occurred to her the exact whereabouts of the spill and the nature of that particular whereabout.
Rhett raised an eyebrow at her and took the napkin out of her small hand. It was tempting to let her finish what she had almost started, but she was rather drunk and he supposed that would be taking advantage. He had drunk the same amount as Scarlett but was much more used to holding his liquor than his wife. His tall build helped, too. Scarlett's small frame would probably have had enough alcohol after two glasses. He wiped the stain on his pants and sat back down.
Taking her cue from Rhett, Scarlett sat in the chair next to him. Alcohol having loosened her tongue, she was free to talk however and about whatever she wanted. She said the first thing that popped into her mind. "Rhett, what went wrong with us?" she questioned, slipping a little off the side of her chair as she did so. Catching herself, she sat up straighter in her chair and held onto the arm rests for that extra support.
Rhett, now having had enough wine to alter his own sense of judgment, looked at her for a minute before answering. "Too many things."
"But can't we just apologize and start over?" she questioned innocently as a child. Albeit a drunken child.
"No." He wasn't sure why the word had come out quite so roughly or why small tears had formed in the corners of her green eyes. Mentally stretching for a way to explain it to her, his eyes fell on the chef's nightmare lying in front of him. "It's like this, Scarlett. This dinner is our relationship." He pointed at the dinner for effect, casting another grimace at the mess. "You can't just cook it again. It will just get more…burnt. Do you understand? See, how you think this would taste to eat?" he said, ironically taking a bite of the evidence.
She had cocked her head to one side as she tried to take in his explanation and a lone tear rolled down her alcohol induced flushed face.
For some reason that tiny tear had caused him to rise out of his seat. What was he doing? He had told himself he would leave her alone because she was drunk and he didn't want to take advantage of her or something ridiculous like that.
He stood there thinking, then made up his mind, and with a "What the hell," walked over to Scarlett and kissed her tear-stained cheek. Up close, he could see the trail it had left. He kissed her cheek again, then the other cheek. For good measure, he told himself. He guessed he was just going the extra mile when he began kissing her lips.
She apparently was, too.
He told himself that if they were both drunk, it wouldn't be taking advantage. If he was taking advantage of her, she was doing just he same to him. He kissed her lips again, and couldn't help but think how surprisingly good that burnt meal tasted.
A/N: so what did you guys think? Sorry it took so long to update, I apologize again. Review and let me know what you thought. If I get plenty of reviews I'll update soon, I promise! Oh, by the way, I know that in the book and movie Scarlett drank, so she should technically be used to drinking and wouldn't get drunk very easily, but considering the emotional situation/state she was in I didn't think it was too far of a stretch.