First Draft, New Story, "Thunder Out In The Distance" Scene 1

John walked out on the balcony, feeling sick to his stomach, and breathed in a crisp fall breeze. His head cleared, but he was still baffled. He let a few drips of spit slide out of his mouth and down to the concrete three stories below. He looked to his left, then to his right. He coughed and felt the last two days weigh on his shoulders. He turned and began toward the warmth of inside, but Olivia slid the plate glass door to the side and stepped into the wind. John turned back to the rail and stuck a cigarette in his mouth. Olivia stepped across the balcony. There was no greeting; they were too anxious. Olivia put her back to the balcony and leaned slightly into John’s side. He looked away, struck a match, and lit his cigarette.
“You could just buy a lighter.” John half turned toward her, opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing. They stood together, silent, and John finished his cigarette. He flicked it off the edge and watched the tiny orange dot disappear beneath him.
“I like the taste,” John finally answered. For a moment, it appeared that neither of them would speak again. John finally broke the silence with a sigh. “What are we doing here?” he uttered in the way a person who hasn’t rested in days speaks. Olivia looked to the ground and tears welled in her eyes. John leaned farther over the edge and pretended not to notice.
“Can I get one of those?” she asked, trying to choke back the pit in her throat.
“Are you crazy? These things will kill you,” he replied, only half-jokingly. Her only response was a blank, vaguely pissed off stare. John looked away and tried unsuccessfully to contain a smile.
“You’re an asshole,” Olivia stated. John turned back and watched a tear slide down her cheek. The smile fell from his face. He put his arm around her and guided her to a seat on the cold concrete against the wall.
“Yea, I know.” John’s head sunk. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. “Let’s not do this anymore.”
“Okay,” Olivia answered after a moment’s pause. John got up and walked inside, unable to provide any more comfort. He sat on a sofa, someone brought him a beer, but he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of loss that was bearing down on his shoulders.