The wine at Oliver's was superior in every way to the pub. It held a light and sweet flavor that washed out the sour taste Adeline seemed to always get after meals nowadays.

Alois and Caroline had disappeared a drink ago, trusting in the drunk confidence they were all bound to be under by now. She sighed, waiting on that courage to come when Oliver put his head on her shoulder.

It failed to arrive, her thin body shivering and causing Oliver to look up at her. "Should I light the fire?" he asked, even though she had kept her coat on in the warm room.

"No," Adeline shook her head, murmuring, "You're too drunk, you might slip... And the fire would eat you alive." She was aware that she too was intoxicated, seconds away from nodding off.

Oliver sighed at her serious expression, only responding, "Scary."

"That's all I can imagine happening," Adeline continued.

It made Oliver pause for a second before then asking, "Do you have nightmares too?" It was seemingly random, and maybe even inappropriate to ask.

But the two didn't care. "I have a dream," she started honestly, "I'm in the trenches with them and I fear I'll get shot or gassed or some other fucking horrible way to die... But a hand from the dirt grabs me and pulls me down."

"Straight to hell?" Oliver finished, "I have a similar dream. It always ends up like that."

Adeline exhaled, breaking the tension with soft laughter that left in the same breath, "We're good people, aren't we?"

"You could be worse," Oliver shrugged. He leaned his head more onto her chest before asking, "You've never hurt anyone, have you?"

Adeline didn't answer, waving her hand for Oliver to continue, "I go from town to town. I gamble, I drink, I sleep with a couple of people, and then I leave."

"I'm sure those kind of women don't care," Adeline slurred, snorting.

She couldn't understand why the silence had gone awkward, and so quickly. Oliver sighed.

"Men."