Can I offer you another?

Pictures of violence and hatred flashed silently across the screen, of fire death and destruction. By-products of the worlds greed, the thought came and went, focus returning to the other person in the room. A pair of soft blue eyes casually looked back over the rim of a wine glass. The cat made soft noises and wound it's way round a leg, beckoning for attention in the brief instance of stillness and quiet. Perhaps hoping for a scratch or some attention, or more likely just plain hungry, eventually stalking off with a dissatisfied swish of the tail. Another glass of wine offered and accepted, poured and handed, the simple action closing the distance between them. Those beautiful eyes turned to watch the view, always spectacular at this time, long enough to discern the shades of blue flecked with gold. Those eyes seemed to drink in the sun, making them shine bright and clear, full of intrigue and hopefully desire. A step closer, emboldened with liqour, words forming on dry lips, breathing a little deeper. Those eyes turn away from the sun to catch the intent and words are eaten and swallowed. Pictures of violence and hatred flash silently across the screen, disregarded. The silence stretching, the wine unfinished, the cat still not fed, the sun in those eyes, the taste of wine on the lips.