Brewed it for Ya

by WingedTempest

Summary:

Loren has worked at the Coffee Creche with Jen and 'Zel for almost two years, and serving the customers in a bustling city like Baldur's Gate can get old quick. But, after a mysterious and handsome customer becomes a regular, she finds herself more willing to come to work if there's a chance she will see him there.

... Too bad they never speak more than two words to each other.

A slow burn fic between an Original Tav character and Gale set in the modern day.

Chapter 1: His Usual

“He just walked in.” Jen said to me as we bumped shoulders behind the counter. She had a cup full of ice and was heading toward the coffee pot as I emerged balancing a latte that was full to the brim.

I nodded in understanding. “I’ll start on his order now.”

I slid the latte on the counter and rang the bell. “One-nineteen!” I called, and the customer came up for their drink with a polite smile. “Enjoy.”

I glanced over at the line of people waiting to place their order- and I saw him. He stood patiently, fiddling with a button on his vest, the shoulder-length locks of his mocha-colored hair falling to frame his face. His stubble looked a bit darker today, like he had waited a few extra days longer than usual to trim it.

‘Zel was at the register this morning, quick at taking orders on account for her lack of interest in small-talk.

He was probably the third or fourth person in line, so I had just enough time to prep his usual: A ‘Red Eye’ with just enough Hazelnut creamer to turn the nearly black color of the coffee and espresso the same chocolatey brown as his eyes.

Jen glanced over at me as I finished off the drink with the creamer, a steaming to-go cup in each of her hands. “He’s just placing the order now. One-twenty-four.” She said softly to me before placing her two finished orders on the counter. “One-twenty-one and One-twenty-two!” She shouted, the stark contrast from her speaking voice making me jump a little in surprise.

She giggled, seeing me jolt. “Sorry, Lor.” She apologized before slipping away to place the next order.

I glanced over at Lae’zel just as she placed an order ticket in the young man’s hand.

“One-twenty-four!” I called out, confidently putting the hot mug and saucer on the counter.

He smirked, nodding politely in thanks to ‘Zel and went straight from the register to the counter where his drink awaited him. I stood for a moment as he approached, unable to suppress the butterflies in my stomach as I caught a grateful twinkle in his eye.

“Is this-”

“A hot americano with one shot of espresso and a splash of Hazelnut creamer.” I informed him with a prideful smile.

“Very much obliged.” He said, his genuine smile making my heart thump against my chest. “If I was a less consistent man, I would presume you and your staff possessed some sort of… psionic ability.” He joked. “In truth it only exposes me for how often I find myself at your register.”

“Well, we certainly appreciate your consistency.” I said with a grin. “Was there anything else I could get you?”

He smiled, picking up the cup and saucer from the counter and cradling it gently in his hands.

As he opened his mouth to respond, my mind ran wild with possibility:

“Your phone number, if possible?”

“Perhaps a date to Selune’s? I’ll pick you up around 8?”

“Just a moment more of looking in your eyes…”

“This will do the trick. Thank you again!” He responded politely, turning away to sit at his favorite table near the window.

“N-no problem!” I said, feeling the blush creep up my face as my own fantasies made me cringe. God, this crush was really getting out of hand.

“One-twenty-three!” Jen came up from behind me, sliding an iced coffee across the counter.

“So? What’d he say?” She lowered her voice towards me, raising an eyebrow slyly.

I shrugged. “He said thanks.”

Jen scoffed. “Just ‘Thanks’?”

“He said if he didn’t come here so often he would have thought we were psychics or something.”

Jen laughed at that. “Well, that’s something. He’s got a sense of humor, at least.”

I nodded, looking over the next few order tickets and grabbing an empty to-go cup.

“Come on, Lor. It’s not going to happen overnight.” Jen said, snapping the portafilter into the espresso machine to pull a shot. “As much as your fluffy romance novels might convince you that it will.”

“Hey, low blow.” I said, feigning a wince as I added three spoonfuls of sugar to my cup of ice.

“Someone had to say it. If it wasn’t me, it would have been ‘Zel.” She abruptly turned back towards the counter with a steaming Cortado in tow.

She was right, I knew. A fairy-tale love story with a handsome customer who I didn’t even know the name of was highly unlikely. But that didn’t stop me from craving it all the same.

After what felt like an eternity of a morning rush and serving dozens of cups of coffee to the bustling citizens of Baldur’s Gate, there was finally a lull in orders.

“I thought the morning would never end.” Jen said, leaning against the doorframe to the stockroom with a sigh.

“You both did very well keeping up with the rush. I suspect your tips will be worth your effort.” Lae’zel said with a nod to the tip jar. It definitely had more money in it than it had when we opened.

“I hope so. Scratch can’t feed himself.” I sighed, stretching my arms in the air to release some of the built up tension in my muscles.

“I still can’t believe you adopted him. He barely fits in your postage stamp of an apartment.” Jenevelle scoffed, dumping a scoop of ice into a cup with a loud rattle.

“He is adorable!” I protested. “I couldn’t just leave him at the shelter. He deserves a soft bed- even if it takes up as much room as the couch.”

“It’s fortunate you live alone, Loren. Otherwise there wouldn’t be room for your fluffy companion.” Lae’zel said factually.

“Yeah, real fortunate.” I said sarcastically. I knew ‘Zel wasn’t trying to be passive-aggressive, but boy was it hard not to take some of the stuff she said personally.

I bit my tongue as I caught Lae’zel eye-ing Jenevelle blatantly making an iced coffee for herself.

Jen looked up and met Lae’zel’s perturbed glare. “...Want one?” She offered, tipping her straw towards her boss.

Lae’zel scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You’re not even going to try and hide the fact you are drinking our inventory?”

Shadowheart clicked her tongue in annoyance, and to nobody’s surprise their bickering began. I was used to it by now, their unique personalities always seemed to clash and create this result at least once per shift. Their perturbed tones and accusatory statements faded into background noise as my eyes landed on the table near the window.

There he sat, the ‘Red Eye’ with Hazelnut creamer, his laptop opened on the table in front of him as he tapped away on his keyboard. Occasionally he would rest his chin on his hand and stare out the window, looking deep in thought before he returned to his keyboard with a new feverish intention behind his clacking.

“Go talk to him.” Jen’s voice interrupted my daydreams.

“What?” I asked, startled that their argument had ended so quickly.

“Quit staring and talk to the guy.” She said with a mocking smile. “I’ll cover the counter.”

“Oh, no. I can’t do that. He’s- He’s busy. He’s working.”

“You don’t know that.”

“What? Of course I do!”

“Oh yeah? What does he do for work?”

“He- w-well, he…” I swallowed nervously. “He… types.”

“I’ve a sneaking suspicion that order One-twenty-four does more than type for a living.” Lae’zel said with an eyebrow raised.

“Well, she’ll never know unless she asks, right, Lae’zel?” Jenevelle nudged ‘Zel playfully.

“... I’ve no interest in the outcome of this. I’m going to the freezer to re-stock the ice.” Lae’zel said with a curt wave as she made a beeline for the stockroom.

I felt sweat gather on my palms as I watched him type away on his laptop, sipping from his mug intermittently.

“Go on, I’ll cover the front.” Jen said, nudging me forward.

I took a deep breath, my head a little dizzy from the nerves that flooded my senses, and I took a step out from behind the counter. Instinctively I straightened my apron, making sure the ties at the back were fitted and secure. Last minute, I snatched a stack of napkins from the counter and decided this was my excuse for approaching his table among all the other customers in the shop. He needed a napkin- everyone could use a napkin.

“Doing okay over here?” I asked as I stood in the light of the window, clutching the napkins in my hand like they were a lifeline.

He looked up, his eyes alight with surprise. “Oh, I’m quite alright. Thank you for asking.” He said kindly, offering a grateful smile before returning his attention to his computer.

“I just thought- maybe you could use a napkin.” I said, holding out a few sheets toward him and praying I didn’t look like a total idiot.

He looked up again, his smile a little less genuine and a little more confused. “Much appreciated.” He said, taking the napkins and tucking them under his coffee saucer. “I’ll be sure to find you if I need anything more.”

I pressed my lips together tightly and nodded, turning back towards the counter. With every step I took away from his table my embarrassment mounted. What the hell was wrong with me, pushing napkins on him? He probably thought that I thought he was a slob, or he spilled something on him. God, how mortifying.

Jenevelle stood behind the counter, all smiles as I approached. “How’d it go?”

I shook my head, dejected and unable to meet her eyes. “I’m going on break.”

________________________________________

“Pickup is right at the counter if you’ve ordered online.” I heard Lae’zel say for about the one hundredth time since the lunch rush began.

The lunch orders start trickling in on the computer starting around 11:30, and by noontime we feel like we’re drowning in coffee. Everyone wants their order completed at the same time, and everyone wants their coffee still ice-y or still steaming. Jen and I have come to the realization that lunch rush is an impossible task and all we can do is churn out orders like our lives depend on it.

“Where’s my croissant?” A man called to us from the other side of the counter. “It was supposed to be with my drink.” He was clearly annoyed and made no effort to conceal it with the rude tone of his voice.

I capped a hot coffee and slid it onto the counter for another customer. “I’ll get that for you, sir.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, watching me with furrowed brows. He had a ‘holier-than-thou’ look about him, his fiery-red hair tied up in a bun at the back of his head, and his button down shirt looked expensive.

“I like your shirt.” I tried to make polite small-talk as I grabbed a croissant from the pastry case, tucking it into a wax paper bag.

“It’s Versace.” He snapped, eagerly snatching the bag out of my hands as I passed it over the counter. Without another word, he was out the door.

“... Enjoy!” I shouted, rolling my eyes and sighing with exasperation. Some people have no manners.

I swung around to the espresso machine, ready to pull a few more shots for lunch orders when I was interrupted.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to be a bother-” I turned around to see order One-twenty-four standing at the counter with an apologetic look. “-but could I trouble you to warm this for me?” He asked, holding up a croissant not unlike the one I had just gotten from the case.

I felt the butterflies in my stomach kick up again from even the slightest attention from him, happily taking his croissant with a nod. “Not a problem, sir. It’ll just be a minute.”

“Thank you, kindly.”

I stuck the croissant in the toaster and tried to keep busy, helping Jen fill as many of the orders as I could while keeping an eye on the warming pastry. All the while I felt the nerves build in my chest to know he was standing right there, probably watching me as he waited. Do I look okay? Does he think I’m an idiot because of the napkin thing?

Thankfully, the toaster timer went off and interrupted my spiraling thoughts. I carefully slipped the croissant back into the wax paper.

“Here you go, sir.” I returned it to him with a smile.

“Thank you, again.” He took the bag from me gratefully and I felt my heart skip a beat when he smiled at me. I really had to get a handle on my emotions- I don’t even know this man’s name!

He turned to walk back to his table where his laptop sat open and waiting, when he paused and turned back. “Oh, and it’s Gale, by the way.” He offered with a grin. “Thank you for being so attentive.”

I could have fainted there and then. How did he know I was just telling myself I didn’t know his name? Maybe he was the one with psionic powers!

“A-anytime!” I stammered, waving politely as he went back to his table to tap away the afternoon. He would usually stay another hour or so until around 1pm before he packed up and went on his way. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious to know where he went afterwards, or what he did on his computer all day.

“Gale, huh?” Jen said, seemingly coming out of nowhere. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Yeah. “ I sighed dreamily. “Gale.”

Notes:

Bonus points if you can guess who was wearing Versace

Chapter 2: His Name

Summary:

After the mysterious and handsome customer finally reveals his name to Lor, she finds herself even more eager to see him the next time he comes in.

To her surprise, she doesn't need to wait until the next morning to cross paths with him...

Gale only stayed in the shop for about another hour and didn’t ask for anything else. Just typed away on his keyboard and occasionally stared out the window into the street.

“Thank you!” He called to the three of us as he walked out the door while we busied ourselves behind the counter.

“Have a nice day!” We all responded on autopilot, our ‘customer service voices’ in full swing.

I couldn’t help but stare at the front door a moment longer after he left, unable to help my mind from wandering. Would he be back tomorrow? He was the only thing that made me want to come into work lately, and now that he was gone my motivation to be anything more than a sub-par barista was fading fast. At least, until I would inevitably see him come in tomorrow morning.

“When does your shift end?” Jen asked, reeling me back in.

“Oh- uh, 3pm.”

“Wanna leave? I’m supposed to be off now, but that iced coffee has got me wired. I can cover your two hours.”

“You sure?” I asked, shooting her a grateful look.

She smiled, nodding. “Sure.”

“Thank you!” I said, my hands immediately dropping to the ties of my apron as I rushed to remove it and hang it on the hooks in the stockroom.

In a flash I had grabbed my purse from my locker and practically hopped the counter to the front door.

“Thank you! See you tomorrow, girls!”

“Bye, Lor!” Jen waved.

“See you tomorrow!” Lae’zel called after me just as I slipped out.

I glanced at my watch as I bounced along the sidewalk. It was only 1:15. I could go get a lunch that consisted of more than a stale croissant. Or I could go to the bookshop on the corner- they are usually closed by the time I get off of my shift.

I skipped along the rows of shops and storefronts as I deliberated what to do with the rest of my day. The weather was beautiful, a temperate spring afternoon with a light breeze that smelled like… warm bread. Warm bread?

I turned toward the direction of the wind and I saw the little Deli across the street- Barcus’s. My stomach growled just imagining a pastrami sandwich on Rye, and before I knew it I was crossing the street.

“Afternoon, how can I help you?” A short gentleman greeted me from the counter as the door chimed behind me. He was clean shaven and bald and his head was shiny with sweat from working in the kitchen making chopped cheese sandwiches and frying things in hot oil.

“One pastrami sandwich on rye please.”

“You got it. Want fries with that?”

“Yeah, what the heck.”

“Good choice. It’ll be right out.”

As I heard the clang of knives against chopping blocks and the sizzle of meat on a griddle in the back, I looked outside through the storefront window. I saw the quaint little street where the coffee shop was nestled, the swoopy lettering on the window reading “The Coffee Creche”. All alongside it were other small businesses with uniquely colored awnings and doors propped open with rocks or cinderblocks to keep the light spring air circulating in the stuffy little brick buildings. The inevitability of a swelteringly hot Summer was something the city always had to prepare for, but springtime, however brief it was, never failed to remind me how much I loved Baldur’s Gate.

“All set, miss. Enjoy.” A voice came from behind the counter alongside the ring of a bell.

“Thank you!” I said, taking the little paper dish with my sandwich and slipping outside to the small bistro tables set out along the street. I sat beneath the Deli’s awning and enjoyed my sandwich in the comfort of the spring breeze and surrounded by the chirping of the birds.

God, the sandwich was delicious. It was salty and savory, and the bread was crisp and flavorful and by some miracle not even soggy even though the pastrami was juicy and dripping a little onto my plate. And they gave me a pickle spear! Oh, bless Barcus and his culinary expertise.

As I was enjoying my sandwich in the peace of the warm autumn afternoon, a bright flash of color caught my eye. I turned towards it to see two bright blue butterflies floating in the air, circling one another almost like they were dancing in the wind. I don’t remember ever seeing a butterfly that color around here before, especially not in the city limits. There weren’t too many flowers to be found growing around the city unless you went to a Florist.

I followed the vibrant pair as they fluttered around a corner across the street, disappearing behind the vignette of the bookshop I loved. It was then that I noticed the extensive crowd of people gathered at the shop’s doors. What could possibly be happening inside of a bookstore that warrants a crowd like that?

As I continued eating my lunch, the line grew until it began to curve around the corner and along the sidewalk. Now my curiosity was really peaked.

I finished the last bite of my pickle spear and tossed my paper dish in the nearest wastebasket, my sights set on the bookshop on the other side of the road.

“Is this the line for the checkout?” I asked one of the girls who was standing in line. She looked up at me with bright eyes, her orange hair tied up in a ponytail.

“Oh, no. We’re waiting to get our books signed- the author is supposed to be here today.” She held up the book in her hands so I could see it.

‘Woven into Reality’ by Drake Ios

“Oh. Never heard of it. Any good?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Very good. Rumor has it he is writing a sequel, too! I can’t wait. The worldbuilding is just so… immersive.”

“Sounds intriguing.”

“There are tons of copies in stock because of his visit- you can go right in! The line is just for the autographs.”

I thanked the enthusiastic reader and headed inside the bookstore, catching a glimpse at the small table set up for the author’s signing. There wasn’t anyone sitting there yet, just a table stacked with books atop a fresh white tablecloth.

“Welcome in, can I help you find anything?” The store clerk asked from behind the register.

“Oh, I’m just browsing, thank you.” I assured her, perusing the small tables set up with best-sellers and popular picks.

“Let me know if I can help.”

I nodded, working my way into the aisles of the shop and skimming through to my favorite section. The “Romance” section.

I ran my finger over the spines of books of various thicknesses and colors, recognizing a few titles and authors from series I had read in the past. There were some that I remember holding my interest for a while before eventually becoming too bland or formulaic or repetitive. The relationships started out fun and unique and romantic until they devolved into something… disingenuous or unrealistic or in some cases… wrong.

I sighed, turning a corner to another section as no new romance caught my eye, finding myself intrigued by the colorful cover of a poetry book. A dark background covered in vibrant jewel-toned flowers. I picked up the book and smoothed my hand over the cover, feeling the difference between the matte of the background and the glossiness of the title.

‘Headstone Flowers’ by: Astarion Ancunin

“That’s a good pick.”

A hushed male voice came from behind me and I whipped around to meet it, startled as it cut through the quiet serenity of the back of the bookshop.

“You can tell the author really puts his heart into his work.” They continued, nodding towards the book in my hand.

I felt like a deer in headlights, unable to find the words as I stared back at the face of Gale.

“O-oh. You’ve read it?” I managed to squeak out, still stunned that I had run into him. Did he recognize me?

“I have. Several times, actually. A talented writer- brilliant at putting emotion into words.”

I nodded slowly, feeling my heart speed as I became increasingly anxious about what to say next. What to do next. I never would have expected to run into him outside of the coffee shop. He had been coming by the Coffee Creche for months now and I’d never seen him around town.

“Are you a big fan of poetry?” He asked me, eyes bright and curious. I already felt myself getting a headrush from his attention.

“I- I like it. I haven’t read all too much, but I liked it a lot in school.” I said, trying to maintain eye contact with him. I became acutely aware just how much taller he was than me as I had to focus on keeping my head tilted up to meet his eyes. They were the same, chocolate-y brown I remembered as his usual coffee order.

“Poetry was always a favorite course of mine in University. Though, as much as I adored it, according to my professors I never had the talent for it myself.” He shrugged, looking over the poetry section himself now, hovering a finger over the spines of a row of books.

“You studied poetry in college? An English major?” I asked, my own curiosity making the conversation flow a bit easier.

“Guilty as charged.” He quipped, snatching a title from the shelf. This one was more light in color, grey-ish white with gold lettering.

‘Gilded Wounds’ by: Isobel Thorm

“I’ve been meaning to pick this one up. The author’s life story is really quite fascinating, her poetry reflects a lot of what she has been through.” He gripped the book tight in his hand, pressing his lips together in a thin smile.

“Well, thank you for the recommendations.” I said, gripping the ‘Headstone Flowers’ book tight in my sweaty palm.

“My pleasure.” The corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile and I felt my heart stutter. “I’ll let you get back to browsing.”

And without another word, he was off. He strode toward the front counter with his poetry book purchase and I was left with more questions than answers. Did he talk to me because he recognized me, or was it just because of the book I was looking at? Did he come here often? Why hadn’t I seen him out and about apart from the coffee shop before? Did… did he even know my name?

I was left standing dumbfounded in the poetry section, looking down at his recommendation as my mind spiraled.
I guess I should get the book. I mean, it would give us something to talk about, right? Maybe I could mention it next time he comes by for his morning coffee. It wasn’t my typical choice for leisure reading, but it was about time I expanded my horizons. Maybe then Jen would stop teasing me about romance novels perpetuating my unrealistic relationship expectations…

I spent a bit more time strolling in the aisles at the back of the store, mostly distracted and replaying our brief conversation in my mind. I still couldn’t believe it happened. What are the odds we would run into each other like that? The city is huge, he could have been anywhere. I could have been anywhere. In reality- I should have still been at work. What a case of serendipity.

After realizing I couldn’t focus as I walked aimlessly through the magazine section, I went to the register with ‘Headstone Flowers’.

“Ooh, this is a good one. A best-seller in the Poetry category.” The cashier said as she rang me up.

“So I’ve been told.” I said with a smile.

As she bagged my purchase, I caught the bright purple cover of a stack of books placed by the checkout. It was ‘Woven into Reality’ - the book that the author was signing today.

“Have you read it? The author is visiting- he should be out any minute now to start signing people’s copies.” The cashier asked, catching me eye the stack.

“Oh, no I haven’t. It's cool that he would visit a small bookshop like this to meet readers.”

“Oh, yeah. I think he’s local? I’m not too sure- but he seems like a great guy. At least on the surface he has been very easy to work with. Not like some other diva authors.” She scoffed, handing me my bag.

The way she rolled her eyes was all too reminiscent of how I felt dealing with diva customers at the coffee shop.

“I hear ya.” I chuckled. “Thank you!” I called back, making my way to the door. I carefully stepped past the line of people still awaiting the book signing to begin, stepping out onto the sidewalk once more.

“Oooh, he’s here! The line should start moving now!”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so excited!”

“I wonder if he would be willing to make it out to me? Do you think I should ask?”

Excited murmurs from the crowd spilling out of the bookshop were enough to let me know I had likely gotten out of there just in time. It was about to become a madhouse.

I turned back to peek through the shop window, wondering if the table was set up close enough to be seen from the sidewalk. Looking past the vintage lettering on the window, I just barely made out the sight of the author, smiling and graciously greeting the first few people in line. He scrawled his name into the front cover of their books, his mocha-colored hair swaying as he smiled and nodded.

…Gale?

Chapter 3: His Job

Summary:

Lor is devastated that her favorite customer felt it necessary to lie to her about his name. Jen talks her through it, and Scratch offers as much animal therapy as he can. But it doesn't matter- he's just a guy.

Then again, maybe it was all a big misunderstanding...?

“Why would he give you a fake name?” Jen asked through the speakerphone as I dug my spoon into a pint of ice cream.

“Because he hates me. He thinks I’m a creep and a weirdo and I can’t be trusted with his real name.” I sat cross-legged on my bed in an oversized tee and my underwear, a fluffy headband keeping my hair back.

“Lor- if he thought you were a creep he wouldn’t have talked to you in the bookstore.”

“He didn’t know it was me when he approached from behind! Now he just thinks I’m a creep with good taste.”

“Well, that’s a step up from just creep, right?” She joked.

I wasn’t laughing.

“Jennnn!” I popped a spoonful of ice cream in my mouth.

“I think you are blowing this all out of proportion. You’ll probably see him tomorrow- at the Creche.”

I groaned, flopping back onto my bed. That was the last thing I wanted right now.

“Don’t let it keep you up.” Jen said. I could hear her worry through the phone.

“I… I won’t. He’s just a guy.” I sighed.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

There was a pause.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed. Will I see you at opening tomorrow?” She asked. I could hear the click of her door lock in the background.

“Yeah. I’ll see you. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

The phone call ended, and I let out a heaving sigh.

A pleading whimper came from the foot of the bed, and I shot upright.

“Scratch? Come on up, buddy.” I said, tapping on the mattress.

I saw the fluff of his tail wag, and after a beat he leapt up onto the bed, tongue lolling.

“Good boy.” I scratched him behind the ears, his tail wagging fast before he plopped on his side, practically begging for belly rubs. How could I refuse?

“You always know when I need a good distraction, don’t you, boy?”

He stretched his neck to lick at my knee- the only place he could reach given he was now lying on his back.

I pet him a bit more, we played some tug-of-war with an old slipper, and once he was properly tired out I let him curl up at the foot of the mattress. He opened his mouth wide with a yawn, pearly white teeth on full display before tucking his head close to his body and making himself comfortable.

“Sleep well, bud.” I said, pulling the covers over me and shutting the lamp at my bedside.

That night my dreams were full of the joy of white fur and long walks rather than the anxiety of coffee orders and handsome strangers. Scratch always seemed to have the cure- even when I didn’t know I needed one.

____________

“Well, at least you know what he’s doing typing away on that laptop, now.” Jen said as she watched “Gale” in his usual seat by the window, typing away once again.

“Yeah.” I said dismissively, making it a point not to look in his direction as I focused on frothing a pitcher of milk.

“Lor, I really don’t think what he did was meant to be malicious. Maybe he just… values his privacy.”

I groaned. “Can we just drop it, please? I don’t- It’s not important.”

Jen sighed, peddling a few more cups of coffee to waiting customers.

We worked together in relative silence for the rest of the morning. Serving coffee kept me distracted- so long as I didn’t look at the table near the window.

“Lor, you’re due for a break. Take fifteen, then when you come back Jen will go.” Lae'zel called over to me.

“Thank you, ‘Zel.” I said, taking off my apron.

I opened my locker, grimacing at the sight of the ‘Headstone Flowers’ book I had brought to read on my break. I sighed. Maybe Jen was right- maybe it was a misunderstanding. But did I really want to read the book he recommended after he blatantly lied to me about his name? Maybe he lied about the book, too. But the cashier said it was a good read, too…

Whatever.

I took the book from my locker, grabbed a chocolate croissant from the case and made myself comfortable on a bean bag chair at the front of house. I cracked open the poetry book and started reading in between croissant bites, trying to tuck myself away from view of Gale who sat across the room. I re-focused on the poems at the beginning of the book, and damn if he wasn’t right about how emotional they all were.

The darkness swallows my ambition
Stealing my future from my veins
My own desires are a prison
While I exist bound up in chains

“Powerful, isn’t it?” A warm, masculine voice drew my attention away from the page.

I looked up to see Gale-or, Drake?- standing above me, hands in the pockets of his suit pants wearing yet another vest over a collared button up. He smiled in a friendly way, but I glared at him suspiciously.

I huffed a breath. “It is. I’m surprised.” I said curtly, pointedly looking away from him and returning my attention to the next poem.

“Surprised?” He chuckled. “You doubt my literary tastes?” He settled on a bean bag chair beside me, his legs bending in a way that looked a little uncomfortable as he sat so low to the ground.

“Well, despite you introducing yourself yesterday, I find myself wondering what your real name is.” I looked at him, my hands folding over the open book and raised my eyebrows. “Maybe you find yourself lying to strangers often?”

He stared at me incredulously. His face started out surprised, shocked even- then it was morphed into confusion as his eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m not sure what you-”

“Drake, is it?” I interrupted him.

I could see realization wash over his face as something dawned on him.

“Oh, I see. I apologize for the confusion.” He cleared his throat. “You recognize me from my work? I didn’t think people looked at photos on book jackets anymore.”

I shook my head. “No, actually. I’ve never read your work. In fact, before yesterday the most I knew about you was your coffee order.”

He chuckled softly. “Apologies, I hadn’t meant to assume. I am Drake Ios, author of ‘Woven into Reality’ - but that isn’t my real name.”

I cocked my head to the side. “What?”

“It’s a pseudonym. A pen-name.” He smiled sheepishly. “It’s an anagram of my surname.”

“An anagram?”

“Yes, yes. It’s my last name- rearranged.” He held out a hand in greeting. “I’m Gale. Gale Dekarios.”

I let his explanation settle in, and suddenly it all started to make sense. I shook his hand, unable to control the smile that spread across my face as we had a real, formal introduction.

“Loren. Loren Woodsong.”

The tension in my shoulders released as our hands were entwined. He looked relieved as I met his eyes, his smile mirroring my own. It wasn’t until I had held his hand for a beat more than what was likely appropriate that I hastily withdrew my palm, hoping he couldn’t see me blush.

“Glad we could start fresh.” He nodded. “Apologies for any confusion- I hadn’t meant to keep any secrets.”

“That’s alright.” I swallowed hard trying to push down my embarrassment. “I’m sorry for assuming as much.”

“And I’m equally sorry for assuming you had read my book jacket.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand awkwardly.

I laughed at his sheepish expression, and saw an earnesty in his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before.

“So, you haven’t read my work, but do you like my recommendation?” He gestured to the poetry book on my lap.

I nodded. “It’s quite lovely. I haven’t gotten too far- but I can tell your tastes are very refined.”

“You couldn’t gather as much from my coffee order?”

I chuckled, rolling my eyes at his arrogance. “I dunno, Hazelnut had never been my forte.” I grinned slyly. “I’m more of a French Vanilla kind of gal.”

He held a hand to his heart with an exaggerated look of pain on his face. “Oh, you wound me.”

“Lor!” I heard Lae’zel call from behind the counter.

I turned to Gale as I stood from the beanbag chair. “And I’m about to wound you further- my break’s over.” I reached down toward him to try and help him out of the chair. It looked… challenging for someone of his height to say the least.

He smirked, taking my hand and I helped pull him back up on his feet.

“Perhaps you could gild my wounds?” He asked, his voice low as he leaned in close.

I cocked an eyebrow at him, intrigued as I caught the reference to the other poetry book he had purchased. I couldn’t help but sneak a quick glance at his lips as they curled into a soft smile.

“Come to lunch with me? On your next break?” He asked, giving my hand a slight squeeze as I was reminded they were still joined.

My heart sped to a dizzying pace, and instead of the heat of a blush I felt my skin grow cold and clammy. I imagine I looked pale and fearful as Gale’s eyes widened, releasing my hand and quickly jumping to explain himself.

“If- If you enjoyed the poetry recommendations, I am happy to suggest more! Th-that’s all.” He stammered, a hopeful glimmer in his eye.

I took a steadying breath, wiping my sweaty palm on my jeans.

“I’d be happy to. I assume you’ll keep yourself occupied for the next few hours?” I said, nodding towards his laptop sitting open on his table. I focused on keeping my voice steady to conceal the excitement threatening to burst from me.

“Most definitely.” He chuckled. “See you in a bit.”

“See you.” I waved, heading back towards the counter to grab my apron. It took all that I had in me not to skip to my locker.

“What was that?” Jen pressed me as I tied my apron behind my back.

“I’ll fill you in on everything- but I have to leave around lunchtime.”

Notes:

Her pint of ice cream definitely melted on her nightstand

Chapter 4: His Place

Summary:

Gale invites Lor out for lunch so he can share book recommendations! And apparently his food recommendations are just as delightful.

The next few hours of my shift went by agonizingly slow, and it didn’t help how the lunch orders were few and far between. I couldn’t even throw myself into work to distract from my mounting nerves.

 

“He’s really typing away now. You can hear his keyboard from here.” Jen said, nodding in Gale’s direction.

 

I glanced over at him, the warmth of the afternoon sun streaming through the front window and catching on his brown hair, revealing flecks of silver strewn throughout. I felt my stomach flip. He was typing pretty vigorously now, his laptop had his undivided attention. I wondered what he was working on. His highly anticipated sequel, perhaps?

 

“Lor- you said you were leaving during your lunch break. When are you taking it?” Lae’zel asked me, wiping down the counter while it was quiet.

 

I glanced at the clock. “Maybe… ten minutes from now?”

 

‘Zel nodded. “Okay. Just try to be back in no later than an hour so Jen can have lunch too.”

 

Jen waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I can wolf down a croissant and power through the day. Enjoy your date.”

 

I felt my face heat. “It’s n-not a d-date!” I corrected, shaking my head in refusal.

 

Both Jen and ‘Zel raised their eyebrows, staring at me in surprise.

 

“... It seems like a date, Lor.” ‘Zel said in a deadpan tone.

 

I bit my lip. Was it? No. He just wanted to talk books with me. Right? Make a few more recommendations, perhaps.

 

“Well, whatever it is, have fun.” Jen said, nudging me playfully.

 

I took a shaky breath. God, I hated that I was so nervous. We were just two… people? Friends? Getting to know each other. Nothing more.

 

I toasted two more croissant orders, made a cappuccino, and the next time I turned toward the counter there was a familiar face looking back at me.

 

“You hungry?” Gale asked, grinning from the other side of the counter.

 

“Starved.” I smiled.

 

I stripped my apron off, letting Jen and ‘Zel know that I would be back after lunch, and Gale lead the way out into the city street.

 

“In the mood for anything in particular?” he asked as we started leisurely walking down the sidewalk.

 

“Can’t say I’m craving anything specific. Why? What did you have in mind?”

 

“Oh, I’ve got a lovely little spot to show you. Follow me.”

 

He walked a bit faster along the sidewalk, striding with purpose. I had to hasten my pace to keep up with him. It was probably 3 or 4 blocks until he stopped at a door tucked between two retail storefronts. If he hadn’t stopped and pointed it out, I probably would have walked right past it. The glass door read ‘The Yawning Taverna’.

 

“Here it is. It may not look like much- but trust me, the food is to die for.”

 

He pushed open the door and a small bell hanging from the ceiling chimed. It was a small eatery, only a few tables squeezed between the walls with the majority being taken up by the order counter and the kitchen that stretched backwards.

 

“Gale! Always a pleasure to see you. How can I help you?” The gentleman behind the counter recognized him.

 

“Hello, Durnan.” He smiled. “I’ve brought a friend here to try your Grecian delicacies.” He gestured toward me and I waved sheepishly.

 

“Welcome, welcome! Have you had food from Ellada before?”

 

I shook my head. I wasn’t even sure there was a Greek restaurant around here, let alone one so close by.

 

“Wonderful, wonderful! I have many recommendations- but first I shall let Mr. Dekarios offer his opinion.” He gestured to Gale.

 

“Thank you, Durnan. I will have my usual Gyro, and perhaps one for Loren as well.” He glanced at me questioningly. “If that is amenable to you?”

 

I nodded. “That’s fine. I would be a little unsure what to get myself anyways.”

 

“Great choice. Might I also recommend the Dolmades? Made fresh.” He said with a charming grin.

 

Gale relented. “That sounds lovely. And, if it’s not too much trouble, a baklava?”

 

“Brilliant. It will be out momentarily, please take a seat anywhere you like.”

 

Durnan shuffled into the kitchen and I could hear the rhythmic thump of a knife against a chopping board as he prepared our lunch.

 

“Never had Greek food, huh? Well, you’re in for a treat.” Gale said as we took a seat across from each other.

 

“I wasn’t aware I’d be getting cuisine recommendations and book recommendations this afternoon.”

 

Gale shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say? I’m but a fount of knowledge.”

 

I giggled at his playful self-confidence.

 

“So, what kind of books are you drawn to? We’ve established you like Poetry well enough, but what about novels- stories?”

 

I cleared my throat, my mind whirring as I tried to think of what I liked to read most apart from romance.

 

“Well, I like Science Fiction, Historical fiction, the occasional Action/Adventure book. Keeps you on your toes.”

 

“I see.” Gale rubbed his bearded chin with two fingers, a crease forming between his eyebrows as he pondered my response.

 

“Historical Fiction? Have you read any of Elminster Aumar?”

 

I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so. Who is he?”

 

Gale chuckled. “Oh, only the most knowledgeable and creative genius to be given a pen in this lifetime.” He said dramatically, waving his hands as he stressed the author’s importance.

 

I blinked at him, wide-eyed. I had most definitely never heard of him.

 

Suddenly, Durnan appeared at our table with a tray in hand. “Here you are- I hope you enjoy.” He said, placing it on the table.

 

It smelled divine.

 

“Thank you, Durnan. You didn’t have to serve us.” Gale said, looking over the tin foil wrapped Gyro on the tray as steam billowed up from it.

 

“Look around, Gale. You two are the only ones here- it is the least I can do for your continued support.” He gestured to the 3 other empty tables.

 

“Well, thank you nonetheless. You can trust I’ll be back again- as always.”

 

“Looking forward to it. Kali orexi, my friends.” Durnan said before he went back to the kitchen.

 

I watched as Gale peeled back the tin foil around his Gyro and took a bite. I picked up my own and felt how warm the pita bread was through the foil wrapping, the savory smell of spiced meat filling my nostrils. My stomach growled.

 

“Fantastic, as always. Efharistó, Durnan!” Gale called back into the kitchen.

 

“Opa!” We heard him call from the depth of the kitchen.

 

Gale and I laughed to hear the joyful tone echoing off the pots and pans.

 

I gathered the courage to take a bite of my own, and was surprised at how different it tasted than how I anticipated. There was a creaminess to it- a sauce that was thick and both highlighted the freshness of the tomatoes and greens in the pita wrap while also complimenting the spiced meat. I had never had anything like it before.

 

Gale must have seen the look of bewilderment on my face as I peeled back the pita bread a bit to take a look at the ingredients.

 

“How do you like it?” He asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

 

“It’s great! It’s so… unique.” I said, trying not to talk with my mouthful.

 

“Wait until you try the Dolmades.” He plucked a green eggroll-shaped from the tray and held it up.

 

He squeezed a wedge of lemon over it before taking a bite and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

 

“To die for.”

 

Curious, I picked one up for myself. It looked a bit like… a seaweed wrap?

 

“Grape leaves. Stuffed with rice and herbs. Really, you can’t go wrong.”

 

I was a little hesitant- I’d never had a grape leaf before. But, I followed his lead and squeezed a bit of lemon juice on it before taking a cautious bite. And it was good. The rice was incredibly well-seasoned. It wasn’t like any rice I have had at any other restaurant- the flavors were entirely unique.

 

“Wow.” I murmured, covering my mouth as I swallowed. “This rules.”

 

Gale laughed, looking quite pleased with himself. “Glad to have been the one to open the door to Greek cuisine for you.”

 

“How did you find out about this place?”

 

“Well, I always find myself seeking out local Greek cuisine- the taste of home, you know?”

 

“You’re from Greece?” I asked, covering my mouth as I spoke with my mouth full.

 

He smiled, happy to see me enthusiastically enjoying my food. “You could say that.” He shrugged. “I was born there- but we moved away when I was still quite young. But food like this reminds me of my mother’s cooking in her little cottage upstate.”

 

“Uh-oh. Don’t let her hear you giving such high praise to another chef.” I teased.

 

He chuckled softly, swallowing another bite and speaking soft. “Oh, heavens no. As much as Durnan is a master of his craft, nothing could ever top Morena Dekarios’s Stifado and Spanakopita.”

 

I laughed softly at his admission, smiling to myself as I imagined him in a little cottage as a boy, being called in to dinner while he was playing in the yard.

 

“Well, now, I believe you were promised reading recommendations?” Gale raised his eyebrows, gauging my interest.

 

I nodded, my mouth full and unable to answer properly.

 

“Very good! I actually have a list procured for you…” He murmured, digging a hand into the pocket of his trousers and pulling out a torn page of yellow legal-paper and scrawling on it hurriedly.

 

I graciously took it from him, pleasantly surprised at the orderly list and the neat-ness of his handwriting. There was another poetry book listed, a few books of non-fiction, an autobiography… but I noticed something distinctly missing from his recommendations.

 

“You didn’t put your book on here.” I pointed out.

 

I saw his face flush slightly. “O-oh. I thought it improper to recommend you spend time reading something of my own creation. Rather self-centered isn’t it?”

 

I shook my head. “Not if it is something you’re proud of! I’m sure you worked very hard on it, why not recommend it to people?”

 

Gale pursed his lips, eyes cast downward.

 

“...Unless you’re… embarrassed?” I asked him, unsure how else to understand his behavior.

 

“No, no! Not embarrassed. It is a work I’m glad to put my name on. Well- my pseudonym.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just… well I’m not sure it would be your cup of tea, is all. I’d hate to disappoint you.”

 

I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Oh? Well, what is it about? I’m sure I can come to my own conclusion whether I’d like it or not.”

 

The flush across his face deepened almost imperceptibly. “Well… It’s actually a romance novel.”

Notes:

Ha you thought 'his place' meant his HOUSE?? You fools, it's his fave lunch spot. ;)

Thanks for waiting for the next chapter friends! I got a little caught up on how 'Greece' would exist in the world when the city is 'Baldur's Gate' but I eventually just said screw it. Imagine New York City is actually called Baldur's Gate. That's how it works in my head. 🤷‍♀️

Chapter 5: His Book

Summary:

Gale talks a bit more about his own writing, and Loren is intrigued. Perhaps she should do some of her own research regarding his literary talent?

“Really?” I asked, in partial disbelief. “I thought I had heard it was a fantasy novel.”

 

He shrugged. “It’s a bit of both.” He chuckled. “You seem surprised. Don’t think a man of my caliber knows how to write romance?”

 

“I- w-well, I d-didn’t-”

 

He laughed heartily at my stammering as he caught me off guard. “No need to explain yourself. I’m well aware that the genre is dominated by female authors.”

 

I tried to steady my reeling thoughts as he grinned at me knowingly.

 

“If you do happen to read my work, I only hope it can live up to your expectations.”

 

I had to stop my heart from melting, forcing myself to nod and present like I was calm and not absolutely buzzing over the idea of reading a romance novel written by the person I was massively crushing on.

 

“I can at least be certain…” Gale began, grabbing a takeout container from one side of the table. “That this will exceed your expectations.” He handed it to me. “But don’t let me keep you any longer. I wouldn’t want your coworkers holding a grudge if you returned back late.”

 

I glanced at my phone. It was getting to be the end of my lunch break, I should start walking back. I pulled my wallet from my pocket and quickly shuffled through the bills I had folded up inside.

 

“Ah-ah. No. Absolutely not, my treat.” Gale protested.

 

“What?” I shook my head. “No, I literally accused you of lying and you’re going to pay for my lunch?”

 

Gale laughed. “A simple misunderstanding, water under the bridge. Besides, I chose the food. If you perchance didn’t like it, I most certainly wouldn’t allow you to pay for it.”

 

“But I did like it.”

 

“And that is precisely why I am more than happy to pay.” He concluded, happy with himself.

 

I rolled my eyes, reluctantly putting my wallet back in my pocket. “You’ll have to let me sneak in a croissant or two with your coffee for a while, then. That way we’re even.”

 

“I won’t say no to that.” He smirked.

 

I waved goodbye and took the small white takeout container he sent me off with as Gale settled the bill with Durnan and wrapped up any leftovers. When I got back to the Coffee Creche, Jen was handing off an order. She looked up to see me returning alone and her face was immediately worried.

 

“Everything go ok?” She asked as I went behind the counter to grab my apron. “Oh, no- was he rude?”

 

I laughed. “No, no. It’s fine. He was a perfect gentleman.”

 

“What’s in the box?” She asked, pointing to the takeout container I left on the counter.

 

“Pop it open! We can share it.”

 

Jen peeked inside, revealing the glossiest, most delectable looking golden baklava either of us had ever seen. There were crumbles of pistachios on top, the thin layers of phyllo smothered in syrupy sweet goodness.

 

“You got Greek food? Where?!” She exclaimed, practically drooling just from the sight.

 

“I hope there’s enough for three.” Lae’zel chimed in, peeking her head from around the corner and gazing at the baklava hungrily.

 

“Grab a fork!” I encouraged. The three of us dug into the pastry, sighing wistfully at its utter perfection. The texture of the crisp dough and the sticky honey, the crunch of the pistachios and the nutty flavor working to combat the intense sugary flavor that every layer was soaked in. It really was unparalleled.

 

“Hope you’re still hungry.” A familiar voice called from the other side of the register.

 

The three of us looked up to see Gale holding up a paper bag with a smug grin.

 

“For us?” Jen asked, swallowing a bite of baklava and pointing to herself and Lae’zel in bewilderment

 

Gale nodded. “You can’t expect me to eat all this myself, can you? My place has minimal fridge space as it is.” he chuckled.

 

Jen eagerly leapt toward the register, graciously taking the bag. “Where do you even get mediterranean food around here?”

 

Gale pointed a thumb in the direction we walked. “Tiny little place, just a few blocks over. The Yawning Taverna.”

 

Jen opened the bag and breathed in deep. “Wow, it smells amazing. I can’t believe I didn’t know about it until now, I love Greek food.”

 

“Well, enjoy then. It’s the least I can do after you all have served me so diligently these past few months.” Gale smiled, taking a quick glance back at me with a twinkle in his eye.

 

”Thank you.” I mouthed.

 

Lae’zel went up behind Jen and took a peek inside the bag for herself. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you for the meal.”

 

“Don’t mention it.” He said, keeping his eyes on me. “See you tomorrow morning?”

 

“I’ll be here.” I smiled.

 

“Until then. Have a nice evening.” He waved, the door chiming softly as he left for the day.

 

Jen eagerly took out a few of the containers of leftovers from the bag, stealing a fork from beneath the counter and digging in while the shop was still quiet. Lae’zel took small, curious bites, but from the brightness in her eyes she seemed to be enjoying the meal despite her silence.

 

“You know, I think I like him.” Jen said in between bites, smirking in my direction.

 

I rolled my eyes.

 

___________________

 

“See you tomorrow!” I called back to my coworkers as I hurried out the door. Lae’zel and Jen were wiping down the counter and getting ready to head out themselves.

 

I made a beeline for the bookshop on the corner with the hopes I might just barely make it before they closed so I could pick up a copy of Gale’s book. Just as I turned the corner on the sidewalk, my heart sank to see the store clerk with her keys in the door, locking up for the evening.

 

“Agh, damn.” I exclaimed aloud, startling her slightly as she looked up at me.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She said with a sympathetic tone. “We’ll be open at 9 tomorrow if you want to come back. What were you looking for?”

 

“Oh, that’s okay. I wanted a copy of “Woven into Reality”, I can come back another time.”

 

“Oh! The one the author came by to sign a few days ago?” She held open the tote bag on her shoulder and dug around, the jingling of keys and shuffling of paper audible even from a few steps away.

 

“I think… I have a copy.” She pulled a book with a bright purple cover from her bag, examining the title. “You can borrow it if you want.”

 

I stared at her, then the book, then her again, trying not to let my jaw hang open too wide. “Are-are you sure?” I asked, tentatively reaching out to take the book as she held it out to me.

 

“Yeah! I got a signed copy, but I’m in the middle of, like, three other novels right now. I won’t have time to start this one for a while.” She smiled warmly.

 

“But I- I don’t even think I know your name!” I admitted sheepishly. God, I saw her at the checkout counter every day and I didn’t even bother to read her nametag.

 

“That’s alright! I’m Alfira, I see you in the shop all the time. You can come and drop it off whenever you’re finished. I trust you’ll be back.” She smirked.

 

“Yes! Yes, of course I’ll bring it back.” I held out my hand to greet her. “I’m Loren. I actually work at the coffee shop a few blocks down- please feel free to drop in, I’ll get you a latte on the house.”

 

“That’s very kind! I might just take you up on that.” She smiled, shaking my hand. “Well, let me know if you enjoy the book and I’ll see you around.” She said, her car keys jingling in her hand as she got ready to leave.

 

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” I said, clutching the book in one hand and waving with the other. I could barely believe my luck, and barely contain my excitement. All I could think about was starting the book and seeing what it was all about.

 

On the walk home I resisted the urge to read the book jacket. It kind of felt… invasive? Like I was reading someone’s diary. Then again, reading someone’s writing at all can be like reading someone’s diary. Who knows what kind of personal subliminal messages he had hidden between the lines of these pages. It started to make me nervous.

 

I heard the pitter patter of Scratch’s paws as he raced across the apartment to the door upon hearing me come in.

 

“Hey, boy! Have you been behaving yourself?” I greeted him, dropping my bag and book to give him scratches below his jaw and behind his ears. His fluffy white tail wagged back and forth wildly.

 

“Who am I kidding? Of course you have! You’re the best boy there ever was.” I praised him, heading to the kitchen to fill his bowl for dinner. “You hungry?”

 

His tongue hung out of his mouth, dripping with drool as he eyed me fill his bowl.

 

“Sit, boy.” I commanded, waiting until he was perfectly still before setting his food on the floor. “Stay…”

 

He was still as a statue, his attention wavering between me and his fresh food bowl, his tail twitching slightly.

 

“And…” I took a dramatic pause, ensuring he wouldn’t move until I gave the word. “Go!”

 

Scratch jumped to his feet, burying his nose in his food bowl and lapping from his dish like a starved animal.

 

I giggled, patting him on the back before taking my newly acquired book from the counter and settling on the couch to read for a bit. I turned the book over in my hands, scanning the back to read the reviews and story synopsis. It still felt a little strange, knowing the author personally. My stomach turned over with nerves, it felt like I wasn’t supposed to read what was in here.

 

A charming tale that reiterates precisely why one should never judge a book by its cover.

 

A good start.

 

When an accomplished mage finds himself appointed to an important mission to protect the capital city of the realm, he has all the confidence in the world he has the power to defend the realm on his own. Unfortunately for him, his own arrogance leads him down a path where he is left without the proper resources to complete his quest.

 

Not atypical of a wizard to have such hubris, but not necessarily cliché.

 

Wandering into a tavern to drown in his sorrows, it is none other than the local barmaid that offers him assistance in his lofty goals. What would a barmaid have to offer compared to a studied wizard like himself? Well, the two of them quickly discover each other’s strengths and weaknesses on the road, but will it amount to enough to defend the realm from impending doom?

 

I chuckled softly. It was a fantasy/romance/adventure, eh? I found myself more intrigued than I was before. Less… nervous. Carefully I cracked the book open, pausing as I caught the gold permanent marker on the inside cover. It was Gale’s signature, written in a sweeping script taking up a good third of the space on the page. It was messy, like most signatures were, and barely legible- but I could tell distinctively he signed beginning with a ‘D’.

 

Of course. He is Drake Ios, not Gale.

 

I sighed, turning to the start of the story and burying myself in its pages. It followed a cocky wizard named Lars as he found himself gaining recognition throughout the land of Freia as an up-and-coming magical prodigy. He bragged about how he always knew he was destined for greatness and that his accomplishments would spread past the borders of this realm and onto the next.

 

While his power was great and his control over it was remarkable, there were times when his focus would slip- but he refused to recognize his own faults. He had to present himself as if he were perfect, else his dreams and lofty goals crumble beneath his feet. Just as he was getting briefed by the high council about his mission to rescue Freia from impending doom, a squeaky whimper wrenched me from the fantasy realm I found myself in and brought me back into my tiny apartment.

 

Scratch sat on the carpet, his leash hanging from his mouth as his tail eagerly thumped on the ground. I glanced out the window to see the sun just starting to lower itself in the sky. It would be dark soon.

 

“You wanna go for a walk?” I asked, smiling as I saw his eyes light up and he pounced on all fours. “Let’s go, boy!”

Notes:

This book never passes the Bechdel test I fear

Chapter 6: His Home

Summary:

Baldur's Gate is a big city. There's no chance Gale lives anywhere near Lor... right?

We hurried down the three flights of stairs to the ground floor, Scratch getting just far enough ahead of me as we walked that I was confident I wouldn’t trip on him, but not so far he was dragging me behind. Like the perfectly mannered gentleman he was on the inside.

We stepped out onto the city sidewalk and the sky was golden with the hues of sunset. It was nice to soak in the last few hours of sunlight on a walk. I could tell from the bounce of his steps that Scratch enjoyed it, too.

He started on our usual route, a brief jaunt down a few blocks and back, with plenty of grassy patches and avenue trees to stop at for him to do his business as necessary. I looked up to see the final few gold rays of the sun reflect off the glossy leaves in the trees. The glow of the evening made the whole block look magical. The bricks of the townhouses and apartment complexes were less gray in the warm light, giving the entire street an auburn warmth.

I took a deep breath, reminiscing in the familiar scent of pavement mixed with the sweet scents of summertime. It was gradually getting cooler now, fall was on the way. I looked down at Scratch as he bounded happily on the sidewalk. He loved to play in the leaves when they littered the ground in autumn. He was so wonderfully oblivious of the festivities to come, I couldn’t help but smile.

Then, I saw his tail still, his nose pointed in the air as his ears angled sharply in one direction.

“Scratch? What are you-”

And before I could finish my sentence- he bolted, dragging my arm with him.

“Wha- Scratch! Cut it out, boy!” I commanded, but it was no use. He was a mutt on a mission.

He hauled himself down the sidewalk as I held onto the leash like a lifeline. He was never one to drag me along like this, I had no idea what had gotten into him. It was at least a block if not more of him tugging with all his might and bringing me with him as he sniffed the concrete feverishly. There were a few moments when he would pause and I would sigh with relief he had come to his senses, when it would begin all over again and he would nearly dislocate my shoulder. What happened to the perfectly mannered gentleman I knew he was?

“Scratch! You- you’ve got to stop it, boy! I can’t take much more!” I groaned, tugging back on the leash to try and tell him his whole charade was getting old.

He turned back to look at me for a moment, as if to tell me it wouldn’t be much longer. What was he up to?

With a final burst of energy, Scratch let out a determined bark and bolted forward.

”Rrrrrrrreooooww!”

The eerie howl of a cat echoed into the darkening sky, sending goosebumps across my skin. I saw a brown blur dash in front of Scratch and I, rushing up a tree that grew along the street.

“Scratch, look what you’ve done now. You know better than to go after cats.” I scolded him, tugging back on the leash as he started to make his way toward the base of the tree.

He whimpered, his brown eyes big and pathetic as he looked up at me. You’ve got to be kidding.

“No. Absolutely not. I’m not going to let you-”

“Tara!?”

I whipped my head toward the sound of someone calling out from their front door. There was a small ‘mew’ from within the treetop.

“Tara, what in the blazes- how did you get out?”

I was paralyzed in the street, my hand gripping the leash for dear life as I saw Gale step out of one of the townhouses lining the block, his eyes cast upward in the tree where Scratch had just chased the cat.

His cat.

“G-Gale?” I stammered, fearful to admit the fault of my own furry friend.

“Loren?” He asked, obviously shocked to see me standing outside his house, gripping a leash for dear life as Scratch continued to lean toward the nearby tree.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, stepping down from his porch and onto the sidewalk.

“Well, I live just down the road. I was taking Scratch here for a walk when… well…” I pursed my lips, looking up into the tree with a guilty grimace.

Gale looked up too, the swish of a fluffy calico-colored tail just visible past the thick of the branches. He let out a deep sigh.

“Tara…” He groaned. “Don’t fuss over it. She knows better than to sneak out behind my back like that. Serves her right.”

A loud mew came from the treetop. It’s like she was listening.

“No, Gale. It’s not alright! My dog just tormented your cat and now she is stuck! Let me call the fire department.”

“No, no. Don’t trouble yourself with them.” He shook his head. “I’ve got an idea. This isn’t the first time this has happened…”

He walked up to the base of the tree, calling up into the leaves. “I’ll be right back, Tara. I haven’t forgotten about you.”

He glanced at me, then at Scratch, then me again. “Come inside, it’s getting dark. I’ve got the kettle on.” He waved us to follow him as he went back inside.

It felt a little wrong for me to take a cup of tea from the man as I had just put his precious pet in serious danger, but I also didn’t have the heart to argue with him as I caught the weariness in his eyes.

I wiped my feet on the doormat before stepping inside his townhome, immediately being hit with the scent of Earl Grey tea and ink upon stepping through the threshold. I looked around, making sure to keep Scratch close to my side so he didn’t suddenly bolt and trash the place. Thankfully, it appeared his inner gentleman had returned as he quietly stood at my heel.

The inside of Gale’s home was cozy, a desk littered with papers and his laptop tucked away by the front window. There was a bookshelf packed with colorful book spines set up against the wall beside a rather extravagant cat tree.

“Please, take a seat anywhere.” He called as he strode through the living room and into the kitchen.

“But your cat?” I asked, hesitating to step any further into the house.

“I’ve got her.” He sighed. I heard the soft hum of the fridge as he opened it and dug around inside.

I cautiously stepped into the living room, sternly telling Scratch to sit and not to climb up onto the sofa like I permitted him at our house. He snorted, but obeyed.

“Can I help you at all?” I asked, turning to see him in the kitchen, cutting open a vacuum sealed bag.

“I should be able to lure her down with this.” He held up a pink and plump slab of salmon. “Her favorite.”

He strode past me and out the door, salmon in hand.

I followed him and poked my head out the doorway, watching as he held the piece of salmon up towards the treetop.

“Come on, Tara. I know you’re frightened, but that hasn’t kept you from fresh fish before.” He said in a sing-song tone. “Last time I’ll ever take you to the beach, little miss shark-whisperer.” He grumbled under his breath.

I’d have to ask about that story later.

“Mrrrow.”

I saw a few branches of the tree shake back and forth, leaves rustling as Gale’s cat gradually jumped from her vantage point and lowered herself down the tree.

“That’s it. I got you.” He encouraged her.

He held his arms out in front of him and a furry, brown mass leapt from above and nestled itself in his arms. I could see her a bit better now that she nestled herself against his chest. She had a shiny, tortoise-shell coat and a delicate little face, her vibrant green eyes almost glowing as the sky grew dark around them.

“Good girl.” He praised, holding the whole filet to her face as she took the whole thing in her mouth, her ears pointed upright and proud.

He headed back towards the door and I immediately ducked back inside to turn my attention to Scratch.

“Scratch- you’re going to meet Tara. What you’re not going to do is chase her. And if you do- no pup cups for a month.” I said to him sternly.

His ears flattened against his head, and I knew he understood he had to be on his best behavior. I sat back on the couch as Gale came back inside with Tara in his arms, slipping off his shoes and leaving them by the door. Shit, I should have taken off my sneakers.

Gale gently set Tara down after closing the front door, and she happily scurried into the living room with a filet of salmon between her teeth. Scratch shuffled uncomfortably as he sat, letting out a gruff noise before I snatched his collar and held him back.

“Stay, Scratch.” I commanded. He straightened.

Gale let out a breathy laugh as he looked at Scratch and Tara eye-ing each other. He was uncharacteristically quiet as he watched them. I caught dark circles under his eyes I didn’t remember seeing when we were at lunch earlier. Did something happen?

“Gale, I’m so sorry about Scratch, I swear he doesn’t usually-”

“It’s alright.” He interrupted me, taking a seat on the armchair beside the sofa. He ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling deeply. His eyes were cast to the ground, staring into the pattern of the carpet like it held some mystery he was desperate to solve.

“Well, I’m also sorry you had to give her a whole salmon to get her down.”

“That’s okay.” He waved his hand dismissively, his eyes still distant. “That was hers.”

“... She has her own salmon?”

“She practically has her own refrigerator at this point.” He scoffed, finally looking up to meet his eyes with my own.

I felt my heart freeze, a stinging, icy pain that was almost pleasurable as I recognized was the center of his attention in that moment.

“Are… are you okay?” I asked him softly, searching his eyes for some sort of sign. He seemed… off.

He dragged a hand down his face. “I’ll be fine.” He grumbled, back to averting eye contact.

I suddenly felt like I was intruding as an awkward silence fell over the room. Thankfully, the whistle of the kettle in the kitchen cut through it.

“Agh! The tea. Just a moment.” He jumped from his chair and beelined to the kitchen.

I stroked Scratch’s head between his ears, both of them stood at attention as his nose twitched toward Tara. Gale’s very elegant cat was crouched low to the ground, nibbling on the salmon delicately right within Scratch’s eyesight. It was like she was testing him.

“Good boy, Scratch. We won’t stay too long. You’ll get bacon in the morning if you behave.” He turned back towards me at the sound of ‘bacon’ and I giggled at the dopey look in his eyes.

Gale came back with two steaming mugs in his hands, careful not to step on Tara as he leaned over towards the coffee table.

“Tara- you have a dinner bowl.” He scolded her, nudging her lightly with his toe.

“Mrrrrrow.”

She was obviously indifferent to the propriety of using dishware.

“Thank you for the tea, Gale. Sorry to interrupt your evening- we don’t have to stay.”

“Oh, no, please! Don’t apologize. In truth, it was a bit of a relief to see you as unexpected as it may have been.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Well, I just…” I saw his eyes flicker as he spoke, torn at how he might finish the sentence. “I was… curious what you thought of ‘Woven into Reality’, is all. Have you started it?”

I pursed my lips. There was something he was holding back.

“Yes, I have.” I admitted, still scanning his face for some sort of subliminal message I suspected he might reveal, but to no avail. “It’s good! I like the adventure that it promises.”

Gale smiled, nodding as he took a long, silent sip of his tea.

I took a sip too, trying to distract myself from the awkwardness and glancing at the few pieces of artwork hanging on the walls. I noticed a few cardboard boxes sitting at the base of the staircase by the door

“Still unpacking?” I asked.

“Hmm?” He raised his eyebrows, as if my question had brought him back from a trance. “Oh! Oh, yes. Just a few… books and things.”

“Well, you’re obviously in the middle of a few things. I’ll be on my way.” I said, standing and tugging on Scratch’s leash to keep him at my heel.

Gale stood too, a worried crease forming between his brow.

“M-must you?” He asked, stepping towards me ever so slightly. “I completely understand if you’ve things to attend to I just…” He held his breath.

“... I’d like to talk to someone other than my cat.”

Chapter 7: His Writing

Summary:

Loren somehow has found herself consoling Gale within his own home. But are words enough to bring him out of his state of melancholy?

I sat back down, eyes locked on Gale’s.

 

“What’s happening? You look worse for wear.”

 

He snorted. “I am. God knows, I am.” He held his head in his hands.

 

“My publisher called me this evening and told me they want the sequel done by November so we can push a holiday release.”

 

“But Gale, it’s September!”

 

“Yes!” He shouted, waving his hands in the air frantically. “It’s September! I can’t finish an entire story that soon! Not when I-” He clamped his mouth shut, eyes wide and fearful.

 

“You what?”

 

He shook his head, staying silent.

 

“Not when you what?”

 

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, rubbing his temples. “Not when I have writer’s block.” He mumbled.

 

“Writer’s block?” I repeated,

 

“Yeah…” he groaned. “I don’t know what is wrong with me. I’ve never had this happen before. I'm typically a proverbial fountain of esoteric locutions but it seems I’ve run dry.”

 

“... Yet you still use the term ‘esoteric locutions’?”

 

He groaned in response.

 

“Well, what’s going on? Where are you at in the story?” I asked, trying to coax the real problem out of him.

 

“Wha- that will spoil the first book!” He protested.

 

“Gale- do you want me to help you or not?” I pressed sternly. Scratch whimpered at my side hearing my commanding tone. I scratched behind his ears to ensure he knew it wasn’t him I was upset with.

 

“I suppose…” He grumbled.

 

“So, what’s got you stuck?”

 

“Well, you know Lars, right?”

 

I nodded.

 

“He’s the protagonist. A bit overconfident in his abilities, but ultimately he finds that two heads are better than one and whatnot. But it’s just…” He paused, searching for the words.

 

“It’s Karissa.”

 

“Karissa?”

 

“Er- the barmaid. Well, truly she is much more than that, but she’s the one he meets in his darkest moment.”

 

“And what is his darkest moment?”

 

“Well, he accepts the monumental task of protecting the realm and is so confident he can do so on his own, until his convoy is ransacked and he is left without a single artifact to aid him. He shambles to the nearest city, absolutely battered and bruised, and goes to a tavern having all but given up.”

 

“But he presses on?”

 

Gale scoffs. “Only because of Karissa. She is a temple of power without an artifact to her name and finally drags Lars back to earth.”

 

“So where are you stuck?”

 

“Karissa is just… well she is becoming the main character. Lars is being reduced to her sidekick when I wanted the story to be about his growth- his change of heart.”

 

“...Do you see any of yourself in Lars?” I asked, holding my breath after saying it out loud.

 

Gale looked at me, his jaw squared. He didn’t say anything, but I could see the thoughts swirling behind his eyes.

 

“It’s not a bad thing to write characters that reflect yourself.” I tried to ease him into the idea. “We can only draw inspiration from our own experience after all.”

 

“Yeah…” He pursed his lips. “He may be more like me than I’m even willing to admit.”

 

“And do you feel stuck? Like you’re… not the main character of your life- like you don’t control it?”

 

“...Sometimes. Like when there is a publisher pushing me to drop everything and turn all my attentions to what they want.”

 

“And what do you want? Maybe it’s what Lars wants too.”

 

“Well… Lars wants what I once wanted. What I set out to Baldur’s Gate to get.”

 

“What did you want?”

 

He took a deep breath, his shoulders heaving. “I wanted to make a name for myself. Prove that I could write a story worth reading.”

 

I pursed my lips. “Well, I think you’ve done that.” I said quietly.

 

He looked over at me, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

 

“You had quite the line for autographs at the bookstore that afternoon.” I continued.

 

He let out a soft snort of a laugh, lightly scratching the stubble on his chin thoughtfully.

 

“So Lars… wants to make a name for himself too?”

 

“Yes, I suppose so. He wants to prove himself capable, but it's like he is… walking in Karissa’s shadow as of late.”

 

“Tell me about Karissa.”

 

“She’s rather remarkable, really. Endlessly kind, naturally powerful, wise beyond her years. It’s no wonder Lars finds himself falling for her.”

 

“Sounds like a bit of a ‘Mary-Sue’ if you ask me.” I critiqued.

 

“A ‘Mary-Sue’? Really?” Gale asked, sounding a bit shocked.

 

I crossed my legs and got comfortable as I settled into the conversation. “Yeah, totally. For him to come across a powerful ally in a place as unassuming as a tavern? And she has magical abilities but is serving stale ale to patrons? That seems a little unlikely.”

 

“Well, who wants to read about situations that are likely?”

 

“Who wants to read about characters that are perfect? It’s not realistic.” I retorted

 

“It’s a fantasy.”

 

“Sure, but fantasy has roots in reality. Your characters have roots in yourself, after all.”

 

“So… what can I do to make Karissa… not a ‘Mary-Sue’?”

 

“Well, maybe she has some faults she hides? Most people do. They present themselves outwardly as perfect even if they are struggling internally.”

 

Gale blinked a few times, and I saw him wring his hands as he stared off in thought.

 

Gale’s focus wavered. “Do you like your tea?” He asked, glancing at my mug.

 

“What?” I looked at the tea, then back at him. “Yes, it’s fine.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Gale.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“What are you thinking about?”

 

“... Faults.”

 

“Oh. Karissa’s faults?”

 

“No. Not quite.”

 

The silence that fell between us was thick, only cut by the miniscule licking sounds of Tara as she finished her filet of salmon.

 

“I’ve many faults myself, truth be told.” Gale admitted.

 

I scoffed. “We all do. You say it as if it is some sort of shameful thing.”

 

“I feel ashamed to say it.”

 

I shook my head. “Well, you shouldn’t. I have faults of my own, too. It’s only human.”

 

Gale shook his head now. “I see no faults in you.”

 

I smiled, ready to laugh at his jest when I was frozen by the deadpan look on his face. He was serious.

 

“Gale- that’s ridiculous. You don’t know me nearly well enough to be saying something like that.”

 

“I don’t mean to be preposterous or dramatic, while I’m very certain that is exactly how I’m coming across- but I feel as if it is true.”

 

I scoffed. “You are certainly being dramatic. I’ll prove to you my faults.”

 

“You couldn’t possibly.”

 

“Oh yeah?” I crossed my arms, determined further by his protesting. I glanced at Scratch, reminded of exactly what fault hung over my head the lowest. “I’m selfish.”

 

Gale scoffed. “Bullshit.”

 

I quirked an eyebrow at him, surprised by his language.

 

“Truly.” I insisted.

 

He shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

 

“I can’t afford to live in this city, Gale. But I do it anyway. I could be living in my hometown, helping my parents with their family business like they always wanted me to- but I’m here.”

 

“You’re following your dreams, Lor.”

 

I laughed out loud at such a notion. “Dreams? What dreams? You think I dream of serving coffee to men in three-piece-suits? No. I came here to escape my parents’ dreams for me- not to chase my own.”

 

“Well, you can’t live your life according to someone else.”

 

“Says the man pacing in his living room trying to live his life according to the orders of his publisher.”

 

“...touche.”

 

We both sighed, our heaving breaths mimicked by our pets as Scratch snorted and shook his head, collar jingling around his neck. Tara stretched and let out a wide yawn having finished her gourmet meal, and she eagerly hopped up onto Gale’s lap.

 

“Faults or none, friends like these don’t seem to pay any mind to them.” Gale said, running his fingers through Tara’s fur as she got comfortable.

 

I smiled, looking at Scratch as his tongue lolled out and he sat waiting politely. I rubbed his head right between his ears.

 

“Yeah. Though I am sometimes afraid that they don’t know any better. That if we could explain our flaws to them they might deem us unworthy and just… leave.” I said, staring into Scratch’s innocent brown eyes.

 

Gale laughed lightly. “Oh, Tara knows plenty.” He said assuredly as his cat began to purr. “She is just as acutely aware of my faults as I am. The fact she still shows me any sign of affection gives me the confidence that I must be doing something right.”

 

I huffed a small breath out of my nose, still staring at Scratch, my mind wandering. If he knew how blatantly irresponsible I was adopting him in the first place… would he still show me the same affection?

 

“Maybe…” Gale began, his eyes filled with light as I saw the gears in his head begin turning. “Maybe Karissa discovers Lars’s faults and they… well, maybe they are too much for her to bear staying at his side.”

 

“But what are her own faults? She still is the ‘Mary-Sue’ of your story.”

 

“Perhaps those are the very things that drive her away from Lars. Some things she needs to discover on her own.”

 

I smiled seeing Gale discover the continuation of his story in real time. There was a relief behind his words in addition to the tell-tale excitement.

 

“I think that sounds very…” I paused, seeing the contentment in his eyes as he awaited the next words out of my mouth. “Realistic.”

 

He grinned. “Thank you.”

 

I stood from the sofa, Scratch leaping onto four legs as well, tail wagging as he looked up at me. “I should probably get going.” I gestured to the night sky out the window. “It’s pretty late.”

 

Gale gently picked Tara up off his lap, gently setting her back on the ground as she mewed in protest.

 

“Of course. I’ll see you out.”

 

He went back to the front door, opening it politely and turning on the porch light as I made sure Scratch’s leash was secure on his collar.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe? For coffee?” I asked, stepping towards the exit.

 

“Certainly. Couldn’t function without it.” He said with his lips pressed together in a smile.

 

I nodded and waved politely to Gale, then to Tara who watched me with wide green eyes as I stepped out the front door.

 

I started down the sidewalk back towards my apartment, Scratch bouncing along with my every step. Then I heard the creak of a screen door behind me.

 

“Oh, Loren!” Gale called, and I whipped around toward his voice, tugging on Scratch’s leash to get him to stop.

 

“Uh-” He stammered, half hanging out of his doorway. “Th-thank you for your help.” He waved meekly.

 

I laughed lightly. “Sure thing.” I waved back. “G’nite!” I called behind me, feeling the butterflies begin to flutter in my stomach.

 

I was grateful for Scratch’s boundless energy as he kept the pace of our walk energetic, offering some relief for the anxious excitement that coursed through me. I had never expected to see Gale on our evening walk, much less be invited into his home and engage in a pretty intimate conversation. Something inside me foolishly hoped it might happen again sometime soon.

Chapter 8: His Story

Summary:

Lor reads Gale's writing, and a new customer visits the Coffee Creche!

“Karissa seems cool and all, but at least in the first book she does seem a bit unrealistic.” I said, turning the final page of ‘Woven into Reality’. “It’ll be interesting to see how she grows in the sequel.”

 

Scratch looked up at me with his head cocked to the side, listening intently.

 

“If only all book characters could have as much personality as you, Scratch.” I said, scratching him behind the ears as he curled up at the foot of the bed.

 

I glanced at the alarm clock on my nightstand. 1:03 am. Christ, tomorrow’s shift was going to be hell. Maybe I could sneak in an espresso for myself without Lae’zel looking. I stretched out on my bed, letting my head fall back on the pillow. I looked over the purple cover of ‘Woven into Reality’ once more. I was glad I finished it, even if it did make me exhausted at work tomorrow. Maybe the context would help me help Gale if he needed any more guidance.

 

I flipped onto my side, pulling the covers over me and feeling my stomach flip as I thought about Gale. His warm smile, his dark stubble, his thoughtful eyes…

 

I sighed. I couldn’t keep pining over him like this- It was going to drive me insane. He has had so much on his mind with his new book, and I’ve already distracted him enough by sending his cat up a damn tree. I couldn’t stand the embarrassment of bothering him with something as trivial as a crush when he had so many bigger things he had to focus on.

 

In the midst of my late-night thoughts, I heard Scratch snort at my feet, stirring gently as he dreamed. I couldn’t help but smile to myself, wondering how much of my troubles he could sense with his animal intuition. Maybe he chased poor Tara on purpose. Maybe he knew, somehow, and was plotting to push me and my favorite coffee customer closer. Either way, I was grateful to have him to come home to everyday. He made the apartment so much less… lonesome.

 

______________

 

“Have a nice day.” I said, passing a warm latte over to a customer. I turned back around to look at the incoming orders, covering my mouth to stifle a yawn.

 

“Wake up, sleepyhead. You’re no good to me if you’re out cold.” Jenevelle joked, holding out a small cup towards me.

 

I looked inside and saw a chocolatey brown liquid. Espresso. I quirked an eyebrow at her questioningly.

 

“Down it quick, before ‘Zel sees.”

 

I nodded, taking the cup and downing it like it was a shot of whiskey. I felt like I was sinning against the entire country of Europe as I neglected to savor the coffee’s flavor and just sought to gain the benefits of the caffeine.

 

“Thank you. I don’t know if I would have lasted much longer without a pick-me-up.”

 

Jen laughed. “What in the world were you up late doing?”

 

I smiled at her and she held up a hand knowingly.

 

“Wait- don’t tell me. You were-”

 

“Reading.” I nodded as we both finished the sentence in unison.

 

“What romance novel has got you under its spell now?” Jen asked, filling two cups with ice as she prepped some cold brew.

 

“Well, it’s more of a fantasy than a romance. At least so far.”

 

“Wow, expanding your horizons, huh? This wouldn’t have anything to do with…”

 

“Good morning, ladies!” The chipper voice of Gale rang through the shop following the gentle jingle of the door.

 

“Morning!” Jen called, shooting me a smug smile.

 

“Good morning, Gale. Your usual?” I asked, already grabbing an empty mug.

 

“That sounds delightful. Thank you.” He nodded, heading toward his table by the window and taking his laptop out of his crossbody bag. He began typing rapidly the very moment he sat down.

 

“I can’t believe he is so oblivious.” Jen murmured under her breath. I nudged her with my elbow.

 

“Stop it. He’s got a lot on his mind.”

 

“Oh? So you’ve been talking to him more, huh?”

 

“We just… ran into each other.” I said dismissively, pouring a shot of espresso into the mug.

 

“I’m sorry, I thought you said you weren’t reading romance? This certainly sounds like a cheesy novel to me.”

 

I scoffed. “There’s no romance. Just friends helping each other out. Apparently he lives down the block from me.”

 

“Like I said- cheesy novel.”

 

I rolled my eyes, promptly walking away to take the mug over to Gale’s table. I set it beside him and he looked up at me from his laptop with a giddy grin.

 

“Ah! Thank you, you didn’t have to bring it over.” He took the mug in two hands and took a small sip.

 

“I couldn’t bear to interrupt your work. You obviously have a lot to write down.” I smirked.

 

“All thanks to you, really. I’m not sure I would have gotten out of that rut if we hadn’t had that little breakthrough last night.” He said, taking another sip of coffee.

 

I felt a hot blush dance across my face the way he spoke. ‘Last night’ I pressed my lips together, staying quiet.

 

I saw Gale’s eyes widen as he hastily put the coffee down.

 

“I- Not that- I didn’t mean-”

 

“Would you like anything else, Gale?” I asked, saving him the embarrassment of his stammering.

 

He cleared his throat, straightening in his chair. “No, I think I am alright. Thank you.”

 

“Well, you know where to find me.” I said with a smile and a gentle wave, going back to the coffee counter.

 

“You really have a talent for flustering him.” Jen remarked as she dried off a mug with a towel.

 

I shook my head dismissively. “Nah, he’s just a little awkward.”

 

“Uh huh…” She hummed, unconvinced.

 

My head shot towards the door as it chimed open, catching a familiar flash of pink and lilac hair walking in.

 

“Alfira?” I called out towards her.

 

She looked towards me and smiled as we met eyes, waving happily.

 

I nudged Lae’zel with my elbow as she manned the register. “Whatever she wants is on the house.” I whispered.

 

‘Zel glared at me with a cocked eyebrow.

 

“Take it out of my pay if you have to- she’s a friend.” I pressed.

 

Lae’zel sighed and nodded, taking Alfira’s order.

 

“One iced Mocha latte with sweet cream cold foam please.” I heard her say politely, and I immediately grabbed an ice cup to get started on it in the back.

 

“Who is that?” Jen asked, looking over at the register.

 

“Alfira? She owns the bookstore down the road- the one I’m always browsing in.”

 

The milk that Jen was pouring in an iced coffee cup overflowed and spilled onto the counter as she stared toward the bookstore owner standing at the register. I had to stifle my laughter as I grabbed her wrist and stopped her from pouring.

 

“Pretty sure they wanted some coffee with that milk, Jen.”

 

She glanced down at the mess on the counter and I saw her face flush.

 

“Ah! I- I didn’t-” She scrambled to grab paper towels and wipe up the spill. “...Dammit.” She mumbled.

 

“Let me get this- can you make the Mocha Latte?” I asked her, taking the milk pitcher from her hand.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” Jen shook her head, taking the ice cup from me and grabbing the chocolate drizzle.

 

I carefully tipped out some of the extra milk from the latte she was making to balance it out. I glanced at the order ticket. ‘Iced Americano with Almond Milk and Caramel Drizzle.’ An online order.

 

I topped off the cup with a bit of caramel and placed it on the counter beside the pickup sign.

 

“Order for-” Jen approached the counter but hesitated when she read the name.

 

Alfira approached the counter with a genuine smile. “I think that’s mine.”

 

Jen nodded, handing over the cup, rendered speechless.

 

“Oh, and here’s your book back.” I said, stepping towards Alfira and taking the ‘Woven into Reality’ book from where I had stashed it below the counter. “Thank you so much for letting me borrow it.”

 

“Thank you for the free Mocha.” She said, tucking the book away and sipping from her straw gleefully.

 

“Anytime. Hope to see you back again soon.”

 

“Oh, you most certainly will.” She spun around to pick a table to sit at, when Gale waved at her.

 

“Alfira! I thought that was you.” Gale called over to her. “Please, come sit.”

 

“Gale!” She squealed. She pointed at the laptop with wide eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re writing!”

 

Gale nodded sheepishly and Alfira practically leapt into the chair across from him, leaning in close and obviously excited to hear more about his ongoing project.

 

I felt my heart twist a little in my chest seeing them laugh with each other, talking in excited bursts. They obviously knew each other from the signing session at Alfira’s bookshop, but the way they clicked instantly made me a little… jealous.

 

I glanced over at Jen, who was staring at them as they chatted with a similar look of solemnness in her eyes.

 

“You… okay, Jen?” I asked, snapping her out of her trance.

 

“I…” She said softly. “Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

 

I cleared my throat. “Fine.” I squeaked out.

 

We both returned to the order slips, occupying ourselves with work and staying uncharacteristically silent while doing so.

 

“Everyone alive back there?” ‘Zel called from the register, turning around once the line was gone.

 

“Yep, all good.” Jen called back to her

 

“Excuse me.” An elegant voice startled me as I put a cap on a hot tea. I turned around to see a fairly tall woman with long, raven-dark hair falling down her back. Her features were sharp, and the royal purple color of her blazer complimented her fair skin tone. She looked eerily familiar.

 

“Can I help you?” I asked, smiling despite her lack of emotion. She looked at me past her dark lashes, her sharp brow angled in a stern glare.

 

“I’m picking up an online order.”

 

It hit me then why I recognized her. Her angled jaw, her cold eyes, her long, shiny black hair. She looked exactly like how I imagined Rowena to look- one of the villains in ‘Woven into Reality’.

 

“Sure, what was it?”

 

She clicked her tongue, shifting her weight to one side. “An Iced Americano with Caramel.”

 

I stifled a laugh- it was the one that Jen had messed up before.

 

“Yes! Right here.” I grabbed the cup from the pickup area and slid it towards her. “Can I get you anything else?”

 

“No, that’s all. Thanks.” She took the cup, stirring the ice loudly with the straw before taking a sip.

 

“Enjoy.” I said, feeling a little small under her piercing stare.

 

The ‘Rowena’ look-alike turned around, taking a few heeled steps toward the door before she stopped in her tracks. Her eyes landed on Gale and Alfira as they were bantering by the window, and she pivoted in their direction.

 

I watched with bated breath as ‘Rowena’ splayed a manicured palm on the table where Gale sat, commanding the attention of both he and Alfira. Gale’s face shifted from a jovial smile from his ongoing conversation to a dreaded stare at the woman who stood over him. His skin went a bit pale as Rowena addressed Alfira, and I saw the bookshop owner shrink into herself, gripping her coffee tight. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, all I could do was watch in complete confusion.

 

Alfira waved sheepishly to Gale, and he looked at her apologetically. She then quietly slipped out the front door, barely jingling the bell as she left and went in the direction of the bookstore.

 

‘Rowena’ slipped into the chair where Alfira was sitting and Gale’s look of discomfort only intensified. He angled his laptop away from her, shutting it closed as she spoke to him. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back on his chair as she continued to talk, and I itched to know what they were saying. He only spoke briefly, giving one word answers and suspicious glares at her as she went on. I saw the mysterious woman scribble something down on a slip of paper and slide it over to him, giving him a tight-lipped smile. He took the paper, tucking it into the breast pocket of his vest and setting his jaw.

 

The woman got up from the table, straightening her blazer and flipping her hair over her shoulder with a smug grin. She waved goodbye to Gale with her long fingernails and proudly stepped out of the coffee shop, looking pleased with herself.

 

The moment she stepped out the door, Gale exhaled a breath it looked like he had been holding for hours, slumping in his seat and looking exhausted. He opened his laptop, typing a bit before closing it and looking defeated. To my surprise, he got up from the table and tucked his laptop into his crossbody bag.

 

I quickly busied myself as he walked toward the coffee counter, trying to make it look like I wasn’t just staring at everything that went down at his table.

 

“Thank you for the coffee, I think I’ll be heading home early.” Gale returned his half-empty mug to the counter as I grabbed a milk frother.

 

“You’re welcome, thanks for stopping in.” I said smiling, scanning his face to try and discern what exactly had just happened at that table of his. Unfortunately, the front he was putting on was rather watertight.

 

“If you’re not busy this evening, I’d be happy to host you and Scratch for some tea should you find yourselves on our street.” He offered, his eyes warming from their former cold stare as he made the suggestion.

 

I laughed lightly. “Even after he tormented your dear Tara?”

 

He hissed a laugh. “Oh, pish-posh. Tara needs a bit of correction now and again and I don’t have the heart to do it to her. At least someone does.”

 

“Maybe she would have thicker skin if you didn’t spoil her with entire filets of salmon.” I snipped playfully.

 

“Excuse me- her raw diet is important to keep her coat healthy! A long haired cat doesn’t look that beautiful on their own.” He defended her, adjusting his vest proudly.

 

“Of course- my mistake.” I giggled. “Well, I’ll have to ask Scratch if he’s feeling up to it - But I’ll let you know. Thanks.”

 

He smiled. “My pleasure.” He started toward the door. “Have a nice shift!”

 

And with the jingle of the door, he was off.

 

“Is she gone?” Jen asked, emerging seemingly out-of-nowhere with an order in each hand.

 

“The tall, rude one? Yeah.”

 

“No, no. Alfira.”

 

“She left too. Why?”

 

Jen put the cups down on the order counter, placing a hand on either of my shoulders and turning me to look her in the eye.

 

“I think I’m in love.”

Notes:

We're so back

Chapter 9: His Crush

Summary:

Is it just her or is everyone around Lor acting kind of weird? She and Jen lament over strange goings-on at the Coffee Creche

“You’re what?” I said, chuckling at the desperation in Jen’s eyes.

 

“She is perfect.” Jen said wistfully.

 

“You haven’t even spoken to her.”

 

Jen pursed her lips.

 

“... Will she be back?”

 

I nodded. “She said she would.”

 

“I’ll talk to her then.” Jen looked at me with a serious stare. “Tell me when she comes in, I’ll make her order.”

 

I smirked. It was just like I had told her when Gale had started being a regular customer.

 

“You got it.” I nodded.

 

“Thank you!” Jen said, bouncing a little with excitement.

 

“Lor!” A loud voice called back from the register, Lae’zel whipping the braids that framed her face as she turned to find me chatting with Jen.

 

“You can head home- foot traffic is low today.” she dismissed me.

 

I furrowed my brow, a little confused by what she had said. I looked around the coffee shop. I guess we were a little light on customers today, not every table had someone sitting at it. I instinctively looked over to the table by the window, sitting woefully empty and devoid of Gale’s usual presence at this hour.

 

“You sure? I don’t mind staying to help clean. I could use the extra hours.” I offered.

 

“No, it’s alright. Jen can handle it this afternoon.” Lae’zel reassured me.

 

Jen furrowed her brow, too, now. She glanced at me, looking confused and a bit suspicious of Lae’zel’s decision. I shrugged, and went to hang up my apron.

 

“Okay. See you tomorrow.” I waved to both of them.

 

“See you!” Jen called back after me.

 

‘Zel looked a little stern as I went out the door, and it made my stomach turn with nerves. Did I do something wrong? She was never usually this upset by my typical pining over customers (or one specific customer). I thought I had done well enough being efficient with orders today. I wasn’t that distracted. But the way she was being so cryptic was making me anxious.

 

I started walking towards my apartment building, my hands in my pockets. The leaves were starting to change on the trees, lending a warm amber hue to the light. But the air was getting a bit colder, now. I might have to break out a heavier jacket from my closet. The smell of freshly baked bread from Barcus’s Deli was carried to my side of the street by a soft autumn breeze. An Italian grinder would be killer right about now, but spending money on a sub after losing a few hours of pay didn’t exactly sound responsible.

 

I steeled myself, remembering the blocks of prepped frozen soup I had at home and continuing on my route. My mind wandered to Jen and her sudden infatuation with Alfira. It was certainly unexpected. She would often point out customers of all genders and comment on how attractive they were, but none had ever elicited a reaction from her like that. To render Jenevelle speechless was a marvel. ‘Zel would catch us gossiping away and call her a ‘chatterbox’ to her face- a name which she never failed to live up to.

 

Alfira, on the other hand, was talkative in a polite, customer-servicey kind of way. But, she owned a bookshop after all- so I could only assume quiet was something she preferred most of the time. But in truth, I didn’t know Alfira all too well. I wasn’t even sure what kind of people she was interested in romantically- or if she was already in a relationship! All I knew was that she was kind, trusting, and loved to read. All good qualities, certainly, but she likely had flaws of her own. It was just like how Gale and I had discussed ‘Mary-Sue’ characters.

 

Oh, shit. Gale had invited me to his house this evening. I pursed my lips as I walked up the steps to my apartment door. Maybe if that’s the direction Scratch wants to go on his walk… we could pop in?

 

Sure, Lor. Leave it up to the dog to decide your fate.

 

The door lock clicked as I entered my apartment, and I could see the white fluffy ears of Scratch point to the sky as he lifted his head from where he was laying on the sofa.

 

“Hey, boy!”

 

He leapt down and sped to the front door, tail wagging excitedly.

 

“Not used to me being home so early, huh? Surprise!” I dropped my bag by the door, kicking off my shoes and heading to the kitchen to warm up a cup of soup with my fluffy companion at my heels.

 

“Seems like you had an eventful day considering the Scratch-sized indent on the sofa.” I said sarcastically.

 

He snorted happily, his nose in the air as the soup reheated in the microwave.

 

“Wanna go on a walk later?”

 

His ears angled toward me and the speed of his tail kicked up as he heard one of his favorite words.

 

I knelt down to pet him, rubbing under his chin as his tail swishing increased in intensity. He shifted his weight from side to side, his paws lifting lightly as he got excited.

 

“Itching to get out of the house, huh?” I chuckled, taking the hot bowl of soup in my hands and blowing on it lightly. “Alright. As soon as I’m done eating we can run some errands.”

 

Scratch’s tongue lolled out as he pranced to his spot on the sofa, knowing I would take a seat next to him and turn on something mundane on TV as I had lunch.

 

I paid little attention to whatever TV drama played in the background. As I ate all I could think about was the stern woman who came into the shop today. What the hell did she say to poor Alfira to make her flee like that? Maybe I should pay the bookshop a visit- just to make sure she wasn’t scared off from the Coffee Creche for good. Jen would be devastated if she didn’t come in again.

 

As soon as I finished off my bowl, I left it in the sink as a problem for future Lor and grabbed my bag by the door and jangled Scratch’s leash. In moments he was at my side, sitting politely as he waited for me to clip it onto his collar.

 

“Good boy.” I praised, amused at the immediate wag of his tail as I put him on the leash.

 

And then we were off in the direction of Alfira’s bookshop.

 

Scratch bounced along the sidewalk as per usual, absolutely giddy to be out and about while the weather was just the right amount of chilly for his fluffy coat to do its job perfectly. Passerbys waved and coo-ed at him as he walked alongside me with his chest puffed, soaking in all the attention.

 

“Yes, yes, everyone can tell you’re adorable.” I snickered at him as his tail began to stir a whirlwind. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

 

After a few blocks, the colorful striped awning of Alfira’s bookshop came into view. Hopefully Alfira wasn’t too shaken by the situation. While I couldn’t offer much clarification about the situation, I might at least be able to comfort her. Hell, maybe I should ban “Rowena” from the shop entirely if she is going to practically chase out paying customers.

 

As I turned toward the door of the bookshop, I caught a glimpse of Alfira’s pastel colored hair through the window. She stood by one of the book displays in conversation with… Gale.

 

Instinctively I stepped back from the window, a little startled to see them together but also trying not to be noticed so as to not distract them. They wore earnest faces, Gale’s forehead wrinkled with concern. I tugged on Scratch’s leash to lead him away from the window as I saw Gale place a comforting hand on Alfira’s shoulder, murmuring something before pulling her into a hug.

 

“Maybe we should go, Scratch…” I said quietly, stepping away from the bookshop door. I could always stop by tomorrow, no sense in interrupting them now. Scratch whimpered softly as I stepped back, urging him away from one of our favored walk pit-stops.

 

I began walking away from the shop briskly, my mind spinning just a little. I needed to debrief with Jen. I pulled out my phone and glanced at the time- Coffee Creche would be open for a little over an hour longer. I was heading in that direction anyway, so I may as well stop by now.

 

The door jingled as I stepped in, Scratch in tow, and Lae’zel looked up at me with a cocked eyebrow.

 

“Back already?” She asked suspiciously.

 

“Scratch needed to stretch his legs.” I gestured to my fluffy white companion.

 

“Scratch is here?!” I heard Jen shout from behind the counter moments before she came running out with a pup-cup in hand.

 

I saw Scratch’s ears perk up and his tail wagged faster when Jen came close with the cup full of whipped cream.

 

“My favorite customer in the whole wide world, yes you are!” she cooed, scratching him behind the ears as he lapped up the contents of the cup eagerly.

 

I lowered my voice to her as she knelt beside Scratch. “Jen, do you have a second? I wanted to talk to you about something.” When she looked up at me, I shot her a serious look. She nodded.

 

“‘Zel, Is it alright if I take my fifteen? I’ll be right back.” She called toward the register.

 

“Sure thing, don’t be late coming back.” Lae’zel nodded, turning to the espresso machine to work on an order or two. It was still fairly quiet, so she could manage well enough on her own for a few minutes.

 

Jen and I stepped out of the coffee shop and took a seat at one of the little bistro tables set up on the sidewalk. She leaned in towards me with wide eyes, begging for the secrets she already knew I had to spill.

 

“What’s up?”

 

I took a deep breath. “Did you… did you see that woman who came into the coffee shop today?”

 

“The one I’m low key in love with?”

 

I scoffed, shaking my head. “No. Tall, long straight black hair, purple blazer? Kind of snarky?”

 

“A purple blazer? No, I didn't see her. I would remember a fashion statement like that.”

 

“She did something strange after picking up her order. She went to sit with Gale and Alfira and it looked like she was making them extremely uncomfortable.”

 

“What?” Jen leaned in a bit closer. “How do you mean?”

 

“Well she said something to Alfira that prompted her to get up and leave, for starters.”

 

“You’re kidding. What did she say?”

 

“I couldn’t hear her.” I shrugged. “But then, she talked to Gale and slipped him a note and then Gale left too!”

 

“Whaaat? Is she the whole reason the shop is so quiet? A personified customer-repellant?” Jen half-joked.

 

“It was weird, and Gale looked unsettled to say the least.”

 

“I would be, too, if a random woman approached me and scared off my friend.”

 

“Well that’s the whole thing- I’m not so sure she was a random woman.”

 

Jen’s eyes went wide. “You’re kidding. Oh my god, who is she??” She asked, sliding to the edge of her seat.

 

I bit my lip nervously. “I don’t know. But she can’t just be a stranger.”

 

“Are you sure?” Jen asked. “You said she slipped him a note? Sounds like she was trying to pick him up. Flirt a little, intimidate the competition by scaring off anyone nearby.”

 

My stomach turned. I hadn’t considered that as a possibility.

 

Jen must have seen me go pale at the thought.

 

“But you said she was rude, right? He’d never go for someone like her.” She placed a comforting hand over my own as I went silent in thought.

 

“But maybe he would go for someone like Alfira.” I said, my voice tinged with regret.

 

Now Jen went a little pale. “W-why do you say that? You think she really likes him? You think he likes her?” she asked hurriedly.

 

I shrugged. “They seemed to be having a really nice conversation at the shop earlier. And I may have just seen them… at the bookstore… hugging…”

 

Jen carded her fingers through her hair, pursing her lips.

 

“Damn.” She pouted.

 

“Yeah…” I said, propping up my face with my hand, feeling dejected.

 

“Imagine that, our coffee shop crushes falling for each other. Fate is really that cruel.” Jen sighed, glancing at her watch.

 

“Break’s ending?” I asked.

 

She nodded, sadly.

 

“Alright. I’ll call you later.” I said, standing from the table as Jen gave Scratch some parting pets to fill the last few minutes of her break.

 

We waved goodbye to one another, both feeling a little melancholy about the situation. I tried to convince myself it was all fine, that another Coffee Creche Crush would emerge in no time. That I should be grateful I’ve gotten a genuine friendship from one of our regular customers- making connections in a city as large as the Gate is harder than you might think. But even so, every step I took with Scratch along the sidewalk felt a little heavier without that wistful, delusional hope that the person you like might like you back.

 

Everyone wants a fairytale, but they are works of fiction for a reason.

Chapter 10: His Past

Summary:

Gale invites Lor for dinner at his house, aiming to apologize for his behavior earlier. But is an apology really warranted? They have a sincere conversation.

When Scratch and I got home, he was properly worn out from our adventure and promptly curled up on his dog bed for a snooze. I took a page from his book as I stretched out on the sofa, grabbing an unfinished romance novel from the coffee table.

 

This story was a good one.’The Magic through the Mist’. Elven courts, mysterious motives, formal romantic gestures. Practically everyone and their mother has recommended the series online and it was well known for being rather spicy. It was also very high-fantasy, but not at all like Gale’s book.

 

I sighed. Gale. I couldn’t even properly relax without thinking about him and feeling a little disappointed.

 

I closed the book and put it back on the coffee table, staring up at the ceiling as I felt not an ounce of motivation within my whole body. Ugh, I would have to make dinner soon.

 

I begrudgingly heaved myself up from the couch and made my way over to the refrigerator. When was the last time I went grocery shopping? Opening the door, the minimal contents inside told me it was at least two weeks ago.

 

A bottle of ketchup, a pitcher of filtered water, some carrots, a jar of pickles, and a baggy of dog treats that required refrigeration.

 

Nothing that could really constitute a meal, but I should probably eat those carrots before they get soft.

 

Just as I reached for the abandoned produce, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Jen already?

 

“Hello?” I said, holding the phone to my ear as I dug in the fridge with some false hope that there might be something else to eat that I had forgotten about.

 

“Hello, Loren?” The voice on the other end asked politely- but it was not Jen. It was a man’s voice.

 

“Gale?” I asked, shutting the fridge and giving my full attention to the phone call. “H-How did you get my number?”

 

“Ah, I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind- I asked Alfira for it. I presumed you were part of the bookshop’s rewards program. I may have told her it was… a bit of an emergency.”

 

I blinked in disbelief. “An emergency? What’s wrong?”

 

“Well, after a bit of consideration I find it entirely necessary to explain myself for my behavior this morning.” He started.

 

“Gale- it’s quite alright there is no need to-”

 

“Would you be so kind as to come to my house for dinner tonight so that I may properly apologize?” He interrupted.

 

After a beat of silence from the sheer shock of it all I cleared my throat.

 

“There really is no apology necessary, Gale.” I assured him. “Leaving the coffee shop early isn’t an offense- hell, I left early too.” Not by my own accord, granted, but he didn’t need to know that.

 

“I see.” He said quietly. “... Would it change your mind if I asked you to come over for dinner simply for the company?”

 

The gentle lilt in his voice when he asked was heart-melting, and my stern demeanor broke as if it was fragile as glass. I smiled.

 

“It would be my pleasure.”

 

“Excellent. You can come over whenever you’d like, it’s already in the oven.”

 

I glanced over at Scratch, who was already fast asleep. “Thank you, Gale. I’ll see you soon.”

 

“See you.”

 

The phone call ended, and a familiar lightness tingled to my feet.

 

“Don’t get too excited, Lor. He’s just a friend.” I said aloud in an attempt to settle my nerves.

 

Despite me telling myself that over and over, I still felt compelled to look my best showing up at his doorstep intentionally this time. I changed out of my work clothes which likely had a hidden coffee stain or two, and opted for something autumnal.

 

A pair of rust-colored corduroy overalls over a cream top, paired with some brown combat boots. I even opted to braid one of the pieces of hair that framed my face- I always liked how that looked but never took the time to do it. A teeny bit of mascara and a pink-ish tinted lip balm and I felt just a bit less nervous than I had previously.

 

Scratch was still fast asleep, his nose occasionally twitching as he dreamed, and I didn’t dare wake him up. Gale would just have to endure my company alone. I grabbed my purse and an oversized leather jacket to shield me from the growing chill, closing the door behind me softly to let Scratch get his beauty sleep.

 

The walk to Gale’s house was… nervewracking. My mind whirred with possible scenarios or conversations, some more anxiety inducing than others. A question that kept arising as I walked along lost in thought was why did he feel inclined to apologize to me? What was he sorry for? For not staying at the shop as long as usual? He had free will- he could do as he pleased without consulting me. His behavior following being confronted by someone who he obviously didn’t want to speak to was absolutely warranted. I wouldn’t have wanted to stay in the shop either.

 

He didn’t have to go through all this trouble to make an unnecessary apology. It made me feel a little guilty.

 

As I turned a corner, I caught the familiar sight of the tree that Tara had gotten herself stuck in. It was decidedly more orange and red now than it had been before as its branches arched over the city street and cast an amber hue beneath it. Soon enough it would be bare and twiggy as winter crept into the city, all of its autumnal luster lost to the morning frost and inevitable drifts of snow.

 

I walked up Gale’s front steps and felt my hand tremble a bit as I pressed in the doorbell. I took a deep breath of the chilled evening air, feeling a slight burn at the back of my throat from the cold. God, why did I have to be so nervous all the time?

 

Gale opened the front door, the warm welcoming light from inside his home diffusing out through the outer screen door onto the front steps, stray beams spilling even farther to the sidewalk. He had an oven mitt on one hand and he awkwardly stuck his leg out in front of Tara as he reached for the storm door handle.

 

His eyes were alight and he smiled brightly when he met my eyes. “Lor! You made it. Please, come in.”

 

“Mrrrrow.”

 

“Tara, step back. There will be no treetop adventures for you today.” He pointedly blocked her from stepping towards the door as I came inside.

 

“Make yourself at home, feel free to hang your coat.” He said, walking back toward the kitchen and gesturing to a coat rack in the corner.

 

“Thank you.” I said timidly, a little overwhelmed about the reality I was here. And this time I was properly invited.

 

The smells were divine as I stepped into the living room, and I could see the swirls of steam and smoke coming from the kitchen as Gale pulled out a dish from the oven.

 

“What are you making?” I called towards the kitchen as I sat on the sofa, mirroring where I had sat the last time. Although, without Scratch sitting by my feet I had a bit more leg room.

 

“Imam!” He said, a slight hint of an accent coming through in his pronunciation. “A Greek dish. It’s a stuffed Eggplant - very savory.”

 

“It smells amazing.” I said, arching my neck to see if I could get a peek of what he was working on.

 

“Thank you!” He said, focusing hard on plating the steaming eggplant boats without spilling or dropping anything. “You can take a seat at the dining table- it’s just about done.”

 

I nodded, stepping over to the small oval table in front of the kitchen’s pony wall and picking a chair.

 

“Oh, forgive my manners-” Gale started, looking at me a bit panicked. “I never asked if you’d like a drink. Can I get you anything?”

 

I smirked. He was entirely too kind. “Just a water is fine, no rush.”

 

He nodded and I heard him fill a glass, and then uncork a bottle of wine.

 

“Here we are.” He said in a sing-song tone, emerging from the kitchen with a glass in each hand, plus the wine bottle he set in the center of the table.

 

He spun back around to grab the plates that were balanced on the half-wall and dinner was served. Beside the colorfully stuffed eggplant boats was a side of vibrant leafy greens.

 

“Imam served alongside Horta Vrasta. Some boiled greens dressed with olive oil and lemon, nothing complex.” He explained with pride.

 

“Thank you, it looks delicious.” I said, staring at the plate as I felt my anxiety bubble up. Why did he do all this?

 

I picked up my fork, but hesitated, feeling a slight tremble persist in my wrist.

 

“Everything alright?” Gale asked from across the table, his brow creased with worry.

 

“I…” I took a breath. “Why did you go through all this trouble?” I asked, pursing my lips as I met his eyes.

 

He looked a bit taken aback. “I…” He started, blinking in disbelief. “It was really no trouble, I intended on making supper anyhow.”

 

“But you said you were sorry before, and I don’t understand why.”

 

“Well, I hate to admit I am often a victim of over-apologizing. So… my apologies, as it were.” He cleared his throat.

 

I put my fork down and took a sip of water, trying to clear my throat as I felt it tighten. Why was I getting so worked up thinking about this? I couldn’t let my stupid feelings get in the way of what could be a solid, real friendship. But the twinge of pain I felt persisted nonetheless.

 

“Are you certain you’re alright?” Gale asked again, putting down his fork as he placed all his attention on me.

 

Tara leapt up onto an empty dining chair, peeking her head just above the table.

 

“No- Tara-” Gale scolded, waving his hand to encourage her down.

 

I swallowed a final gulp of water. “I’m alright, Gale. Thank you. I really appreciate you inviting me over.” I said, forcing my nerves away.

 

A slight smile slipped through his defenses, and I saw the tension in his shoulders release. “My pleasure. As much as I love Tara she isn’t much for conversation.” He chuckled.

 

As if on cue, a slight ”Mrrrrrow.” of protest could be heard from the kitchen where she had scurried off to.

 

I giggled at his cat’s wonderful comedic timing, and he chuckled alongside me. I started to feel a little less uncomfortable sitting at his dining table. Things were okay. We were okay.

 

“Please, dig in.” He encouraged, taking a bite himself. I nodded, wanting to try the meal while it was still warm.

 

It was delightful. Savory and flavorful, and the textures of the soft eggplant and the snap of the roasted cherry tomatoes perfectly complimented each other. I hummed in approval, self-consciously wiping my mouth with a napkin.

 

“Is that an endorsement I hear?” Gale teased, swirling the wine in his glass before taking a sip.

 

I nodded, unable to conceal a smile. “It’s delicious, Gale, really.”

 

“Glad to hear it.”

 

I felt my chest tighten again as I loaded my lips with my next words, but I let them spill from my damning mouth anyway.

 

“You should have invited Alfira, she would love a meal like this.”

 

I glanced up at him, trying to gauge his reaction without being too obvious.

 

He cleared his throat. “Alfira? From the bookshop?”

 

“Yes, precisely. She is a lovely conversationalist. She has to deal with customers all day, so she doesn't have much of a choice.”

 

“Well, you deal with customers all day, too.”

 

“Not as much as Lae’zel. I mostly just make the drinks, ‘Zel has to take the orders. Though, I’m not sure I’d call her a conversationalist…” I teased, and I caught him huff a laugh in agreement.

 

“Alfira is delightful, I admit, but I fear I’ve not been the best of friends to her as of late.” He admitted, casting his eyes down shamefully. “I can only hope my apology is taken at face value.”

 

“What happened?” I asked, honestly unaware of the details of the situation. I only know what I saw at the coffee shop and nothing more.

 

“Well…” Gale scratched at the back of his neck, exhaling a deep breath. “I had a rather unwelcome encounter with a former acquaintance this morning and poor Alfira was caught in the midst.”

 

“An acquaintance?”

 

Gale nodded, looking suddenly more exhausted than he had formerly.

 

“An ‘Old Flame’ to be precise.” He crossed his arms. “She had made some rather uncouth comments towards Alfira and I was too cowardly to stand up for her. I would attribute my paralysis to the sheer shock I had seeing her here in the first place- but that really is no excuse, is it?”

 

“Gale…” I said sympathetically.

 

“No, no. Don’t pity me. I should have said something. I suppose her treatment of others is not unlike how I was treated like her bloody lapdog during our marriage. I should know better than to expect her to change.” He grumbled.

 

Marriage!? That wasn’t a word I expected to hear from him. If I had been drinking water I would have choked on it- but I stifled my surprise.

 

“I… I didn’t know you were married.” I managed to squeak out, mostly concealing my surprise.

 

He sighed. “It feels like an entire lifetime has passed since that chapter closed- but yes. I was.”

 

“Well… I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” I said, picking at my plate.

 

He scoffed. “I’m not.” He said, eating a forkful of food.

 

“Do you… want to talk about it?” I suggested, catching the circles under his eyes practically darken in real time.

 

He took the wine bottle from the center of the table and refilled his glass. “Care for a glass?” he held the bottle up towards me.

 

“That depends. Will I need one?” I asked teasingly.

 

He shook his head, brown locks swaying. “No, no. My lamentations are best reserved for another time. I’d much rather focus on enjoying a home-cooked meal with more enjoyable company.”

 

I felt my heart stutter and my face flush, quickly taking another gulp of water and emptying the glass.

 

“I’ll take some.” I relented, smiling softly.

 

He nodded, pouring me a glass with a gentle flush in his cheeks I wasn’t sure if I could completely attribute to the wine.

Chapter 11: His Wife

Summary:

Gale and Lor continue enjoying their evening together, and a bit of alcohol makes them more loose lipped than usual.

After we finished the entire bottle alongside dinner, Gale happily tore into his liquor cabinet to procure another vintage for us to sip on post-meal. The wine was sweet and left a pleasurable tingle on my tongue as it went down. It was clear to me that Gale was enjoying it too, the way his cups were emptied in remarkable time.

 

And in the blink of an eye, we were both delightfully drunk pretending to watch TV on his couch.

 

“What even is this?” I asked, gesturing to the television channel.

 

“Christmas movies, looks like.” He said, scanning the coffee table for the remote.

 

“Christmas!? It’s not even October!”

 

“Well, some people like to get in the spirit early.” He found the remote between the couch cushions. “Let me change it.”

 

“Ugh. I feel like everyone in those corny holiday movies are Mary-Sues.” I grumbled.

 

“Everyone?” Gale asked, the channel abruptly changing to some sitcom I vaguely recognized but couldn’t name. “I’d say the stories themselves are the problem, not the characters.”

 

“Really? The ‘rich woman who visits a small town and has the local bachelor fall in love with her immediately’ doesn’t scream Mary-Sue to you?”

 

“Perhaps, but what about the fact that said ‘rich woman’ also despises the rural nature of the small town at first and is a certified workaholic? Those are flaws in the character, negating her status as a Mary-Sue. But the story is unrealistic.”

 

“Elaborate.” I gave him the floor, tucking my feet beneath me on his couch as I swirled the wine left in my glass.

 

“I don’t know that a person’s entire character can change so easily. This executive businesswoman goes to the countryside a stern, corporate workhorse and is softened into a fun-loving, empathetic, hopeless romantic who is capable of compassion? In just three days? That seems a bit unreasonable.”

 

“You don’t believe love can change people?” I asked, taking a sip as I watched the gears turn in his head.

 

“We were together for years and it never changed her.”

 

I was silent as I watched the color drain from his face and his posture shift. He shrunk into himself a bit, immediately regretting his outburst.

 

“I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have-” He stammered.

 

“No, it’s okay, Gale. You can vent.” I said, laying a comforting hand on his.

 

He pursed his lips, looking into my eyes as if to search whether I was a safe place for his words to land. I kept my gaze steady, noticing just how dilated his pupils were as I tried to assure him wordlessly that he could speak freely.

 

He cleared his throat.

 

“Four years we were together. I was freshly twenty and she was twenty-three. She had big dreams and the talent to back them, already a published author at sixteen and had been writing ever since.”

 

“Impressive.” I hummed.

 

“Not so much when you realize her father was the CFO of Waterdeep Writing, the publishing company, but even then there were other firms offering her book deals with very competitive pay. She was talented. Is talented.”

 

“She’s still a writer?”

 

“Oh, yes. In fact, she has assumed the role of CEO herself and works with her father quite closely, now. I pity the poor editor-in-chief who has taken my place there.”

 

“You were an editor?”

 

He shrugged his shoulders. “Her editor, specifically. It was all I was allowed to be. I had submitted my manuscripts countless times, but each and every submission was deemed ineligible for publishing.”

 

“What? Why? Your book has been doing so well!”

 

“Yes, now that my lawyer fought through hell to get me out of my non-compete clause. Even after being divorced and laid-off they still weren’t going to let me self-publish or publish elsewhere.”

 

“What did she say to you?”

 

“She said my works were un-inspired. Lackluster. Repetitive. Overdone. Every word in the book to persuade me to give up on my dream and serve as her personal spell-checker for the rest of my days.”

 

“... How did you get out?”

 

He took a deep breath, setting down his empty glass on the coffee table.

 

“When someone you admire that much tells you that they love you, every cell in your body wants it to be true. So you believe it. Until the next words out of their mouth are lies- then you stop believing in anything.”

 

I saw his eyes turn glossy and a heavy weight fell on my chest. I never meant to dig up his past this way…

 

“I caught her with someone else, some massive bookstore chain CEO’s son. So, the divorce papers were filed, I was laid-off the next day, and I was off to another city in search of some semblance of freedom.”

 

“Why choose Baldur’s Gate?”

 

“She always hated it here. Said it wasn’t worthy of being called a city, not enough focus on efficiency or production. It didn’t meet her standards of potential- and as such, neither did I.”

 

“Yet she came here anyway.”

 

“A business trip, so she says. But it felt malicious the way she approached me at the Coffee Creche. Like she was the predator and I was the prey.”

 

“She reminded me of someone.”

 

“Oh? Who?” He asked, his curiosity peaked.

 

“Rowena?”

 

He smiled now, dimples on full display as he couldn’t help but laugh aloud.

 

“Oh, you caught that, did you? What gave it away?”

 

“The hair. How did you describe it? ’pin straight, glossy and dark as an inkpot.’?”

 

“An inkpot, yes. Glad to see it paints an accurate picture. Also glad it appears nobody at Waterdeep Writing has caught onto my little allusion.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Else poor Karlach would have another legal case of mine to battle through.”

 

“Waterdeep Writing, huh?...” It sounded familiar. I could picture their logo in my head, it’s printed on so many book spines it's hard to forget. A shield with a crescent moon, an eight-pointed star in its center. “What’s her name, again?”

 

“Mystra Ryl. The author of ’The Magic through the Mist’.”

 

Of course. The best-seller that is sitting on my coffee table at home. I suddenly wanted another glass of wine.

 

“She’s one of the ‘Baldurian Best’ according to the most recent statistics.” Gale sighed. “For the fourth time in her career, might I add.”

 

“So, what? Your sales are good. Who says your next book can’t make it on the list?” I waved my hands around with frustration, feeling the heat of the alcohol in my cheeks.

 

“Sequels hardly ever sell better than first releases. It’s practically unheard of.”

 

“And only a fraction of victims of domestic abuse ever seek legal help, so you’re already beating the odds.”

 

He tilted his head back, silent as he sighed deeply. Too far, Loren, too far…

 

“S-sorry, I didn’t-”

 

“Shall I open another bottle of wine?” He suggested, getting up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen.

 

“Maybe not tonight…” I shook my head. “Unless you want me to say something else stupid and insensitive.”

 

He let out a light chuckle. “You’re fine.” he said, leaning on the pony wall. “I don’t like to admit it, but it was domestic abuse. It’s just a hard reality to face.”

 

“Of course it is.” I said, tapping the empty seat next to me on the couch to coax him back. “But you made it. And look at you, now.”

 

“Look at me. A lonely cat owner with an abnormally high stress level.” He gestured to himself before he plopped back onto the couch.

 

“Noo…” I scolded. “An accomplished author who holds his work to a high standard.” I poked him in the center of his chest.

 

“Just as lonely, though.”

 

“How could you be lonely when you have three baristas to greet you every morning?”

 

He scoffed. “I don’t know if Lae’zel has ever properly greeted me apart from asking my order.”

 

I shrugged. “That sounds about right. She means well, though. She’s never spoken ill of you, so she must like you.”

 

“Must she? Is that what that means?”

 

I nodded enthusiastically. “You’re a very loyal customer. She appreciates that quality in people.”

 

He chuckled. “I’m sure she does appreciate the percentage of my royalties the shop gets every week.”

 

We laughed in unison.

 

“Even so, I never expected a city with the population of Baldur’s Gate to feel so… isolating.” Gale said once our giggling died down.

 

“Was it different in Waterdeep?”

 

“No, not really. Arguably, it was worse. There are far fewer small businesses like Durnan’s or Alfira’s with that warm, welcoming atmosphere. It’s mostly cold and corporate there- but with Mystra at my side I had no reason to feel secluded.”

 

He sat for a moment as his eyes drifted off to another time, silent as his memories took him elsewhere.

 

“But in retrospect, I was lonely even then. I just didn’t realize it yet.”

 

I didn’t know how to respond to that. How to… help. He stared off blankly for a moment as I struggled to find words to comfort him.

 

“I’m sorry- I didn’t invite you over to recite my sob-story.” Gale said, shaking off the existential dread that was clinging to him. “I did, however, want to explain my strange behavior. I suppose that offers a bit of context as to why I might have been… distraught to see Mystra.”

 

I nodded. “Of course. And for the record, you don’t need to explain yourself to me. Or apologize. Like I said before.”

 

“I know. But I wanted to. It only felt… fair.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, I apologized to Alfira, and I assume Mystra’s conversation with you was equally unpleasant- however brief.”

 

“You shouldn’t be apologizing for another person’s actions, Gale.” I said in a scolding tone.

 

He sighed deeply, and Tara got up from her nap spot and hopped into his lap as if she was summoned by his breath alone.

 

“So my therapist says…” Gale grumbled. Tara bumped her head into his hand, begging to be pet. He scratched her head and along her back as she flopped on top of his legs.

 

“Your real therapist or your fluffy one?” I asked, pointing to Tara as she purred beneath his hand.

 

“... Both.” He said decidedly. “She is quite therapeutic, this one.” He scratched her beneath the chin and she closed her eyes blissfully.

 

I chuckled. “Yeah. That’s part of why I got Scratch. In addition to the extra security I get walking the city with a fearsome beast like him at my side.”

 

Gale laughed heartily. “Not sure I could call him fearsome, but maybe Tara can.” Tara’s tail swished as he lavished her with attention.

 

“I wouldn’t have guessed you’d need a pet to have someone to talk to. Don’t you talk to Jen practically all day?” He asked, a little surprised.

 

I shrugged. “Yeah. I do. But it’s a different feeling to come home and have someone there for you. You must know how it is with Tara.”

 

Gale chuckled. “Perhaps- but I’ve had Tara so long I hardly can imagine a life without her. She’s been a constant even through the hardest times.”

 

My heart warmed to hear him speak so fondly of his companion. I was glad he had some consistency through the major changes he had undergone.

 

I glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall and had to rub my eyes to make sure I was seeing it right. It was nearly midnight. Where had the time gone?

 

“Wow, I didn’t realize how late it had gotten.” I murmured, suddenly feeling the weight of sleep fall over me.

 

Gale glanced at his watch. “Neither did I. Time flies when you’re having fun, I suppose.”

 

“Or if you drink enough wine.”

 

He nodded in agreement, huffing a half-laugh.

 

“Can I walk you home? If Scratch isn’t here to protect you, I’m happy to take his place.”

 

“Oh, no. You don’t have to do that.”

 

“It’s no trouble at all, really. It would give me some peace of mind to see you back safely. Especially in… the state we’re both in.” He brushed his fingers over his face where it was flushed from the alcohol. I mimicked him, feeling the heat on my cheek and the slight lightheadedness that remained from the wine.

 

“Alright. Thank you.” I relented, grabbing my coat from the rack and slipping my shoes back on. “Think you can walk straight after all that wine? It’s not like we’re next door neighbors.” I teased.

 

Gale waved a hand dismissively. “I’ve taken strolls in worse shape. Besides, I could do with a bit of exercise and fresh air. I think stuffing myself inside at my keyboard most days is making me stir-crazy.”

 

Tara meowed in protest as Gale picked her up off of his lap and set her gently on the floor so he could stand. He slipped on a coat and tucked his house keys in his pocket, opening the door and leading me out like a gentleman.

Notes:

Karlach would be a great lawyer. She would in fact fight like hell. You can't change my mind.

Chapter 12: His Wine

Summary:

After Gale and Lor drink a bit too much wine, he kindly offers to walk her home. And, right on cue, Lor begins overthinking everything.

The cold night air bristled against me and I pulled my coat closed tighter in an attempt to keep warm.

“Are you cold? Would you like a hat? A scarf, maybe?” Gale asked, his eyes wide as he watched me huddle into myself on his front steps.

I shook my head. “No, no that’s alright. It’s not… that far.”

Gale quirked an eyebrow, ducking back inside the door and snatching a scarf from his coat rack.

“Here.” He wrapped it around my neck, tying it off snugly beneath my chin. “Take it off if you want, but I won’t have you freezing on my watch.”

The soft, woolen scarf he had secured around my neck smelled like mahogany and clove, a warm and woody scent that was very reminiscent of him and his cozy townhouse. I found myself tucking my nose into the warmth of the fabric with ease, unable to keep myself from grinning having Gale’s scent surround me.

“Ready to go?” Gale asked, his breath coming out in a soft cloud as he donned a beanie and kept his hands stuffed in his pockets.

I nodded, smiling at his scarlet cheeks standing out beneath the streetlights. He was definitely the tiniest bit tipsy, even if he tried to put on a front.

“This way, right?” He pointed down the street, taking a few steps in one direction.

“Yep, a few blocks down.” I confirmed, going to his side to walk with him.

Our steps clacked against the cold concrete, loud against the relative quiet of the residential street. The soft whoosh of passing cars and the muffled conversations behind brick walls were the only other sounds to be heard as we walked past townhouses and apartment buildings.

“I love this time of night.” Gale said, tipping his head back to look up at the sky. The moon was high, and so few stars could be seen from the light pollution of the city.

I looked up, too, smiling at the perfectly crescent shape that hung in the sky.

“There is an almost reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you’d almost believe the dawn will never break.” He continued.

I was speechless at his eloquent verse- was this the typical result of a writer under the influence?

“Silence is something few and far between in this city.” I murmured, keeping my voice low to absorb what quiet there was.

“You say that, yet right now I hear very little apart from your voice.”

I pulled his scarf higher over my mouth and nose, letting the spice of his musk comfort me as I felt my heart quicken beneath my coat.

“I’ll be quiet.” I whispered.

He shook his head. “No.” His elbow nudged me gently. “I like it.”

I sincerely hoped that the flush from the wine was still there to partially conceal the blush I undoubtedly had blooming on my face now.

“What about the ‘reverent silence’?” I teased.

“Your voice is so oft the one I yearn to hear when silence becomes consuming.”

My heart could have stopped then and there. “M-my voice?”

“The one that so frequently coaxes me from desperation and despair, offering a kind or encouraging word despite the darkness I find myself buried in.”

“Well, I’m happy to hear my little tidbits of advice here and there have been of some comfort.”

“Comfort beyond words.” He admitted. “Thank you.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “What are friends for?”

He hummed in agreement, tucking his face into the high collar of his coat as we continued our walk.

As we walked a bit closer to the city center, the hum of car engines and occasional honks could be heard even at this time of night. The sounds were still distant, but the quiet that lived on Gale’s street was long gone.

“This is me.” I said, gesturing to the tan brick building as we approached. “No need to walk me up, the front entrance is locked unless you have a key.”

“Alright, so long as you’re certain.” Gale said, his eyes trailing up the building that climbed towards the moon.

“Thank you for having me, it was a lovely meal.”

He smiled. “Thank you for coming, I know I didn’t give much notice. I appreciate you making the time.”

“Of course!” I beamed, trying to hide the exhaustion I felt building as my body ached for a bed. “I know it isn't a long walk, but please get home safely.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I have every intention of seeing you tomorrow for my usual- I won’t let much get in the way of that.”

I huffed a half-laugh. “Goodnight, Gale. Thank you again.”

“Goodnight.” He waved, pulling his collar over his nose and heading back the way he came.

I felt a tightness in my chest watching him walk away. Everything felt colder. I wanted to reach out, to ask him to come inside, to hang out with me and Scratch for a moment or two. But I froze.

I took a deep breath, picking up the masculine scent of Gale’s cologne once again.

“Oh!” I exclaimed, my hand immediately going to the scarf that was still tucked around my neck. “Gale! Your scarf!” I called after him.

He didn’t turn around, only raised his hand in the air dismissively. “Keep it. I can get it tomorrow. Go get some rest.” He called back.

I gripped the fabric between my fingers, watching another moment as he walked away. He didn’t turn back- not once. I sighed as I turned to the front door of my building and trudged up the stairs to my apartment.

It was hard for me to fall asleep that night. Even with Scratch curled up at my feet, snug under my blanket, I kept replaying the entire night over and over in my brain. I glanced over at Gale’s scarf, draped over a chair beside my dresser. God, I didn’t know wine could make me act so stupid. I thought alcohol was supposed to be liquid courage- it felt more like liquid cowardice to me. I couldn’t even manage to invite him inside to escape the cold.

I tossed and turned under the covers, unable to get his image out of my head. The way his eyes turned sad and innocent when he talked about his ex-wife. The way the wine made his cheeks flush crimson. He was unfairly handsome, and even more unfairly oblivious of everything I felt for him. I felt a knot in my stomach at the thought, making me nostalgic for the time not so long ago when I would admire him from afar and be unbothered by the fact he didn’t know my name. He used to be just an attractive customer- but now he was a friend. Thinking back, I was surprised that our relationship had managed to evolve beyond anything more than barista and customer. Running into him in the bookshop was unexpected. Getting a book recommendation from him was even more unexpected. Come to think of it, a lot of this was unexpected. Who would have thought I would meet the ex-husband of one of the romance authors I read? Let alone fall for him.

I buried my face in the pillow, practically begging my brain to stop playing re-runs of the night. The sheets at my feet shifted, and I glanced down to see Scratch with his ears pointed up, staring at me. He pawed at the blanket over my legs, whimpering softly.

“Sorry, boy.” I apologized, snaking an arm down to give him some pets on his head. “Can’t sleep.”

He stood, legs wobbly on the plush of the mattress, and waddled his way up the bed to the pillow beside me. He snorted, plopping down and curling up, tucking his tail beneath him. His big brown eyes looked up at me pitifully as he settled in.

“Comfortable now?” I asked, keeping my voice soft.

He whimpered low, almost like a growl as he tucked in his head, shutting his eyes in a huff.

“Goodnight, boy.” I whispered, pulling the covers over me higher. The warmth that emanated off of Scratch as he slept so close helped distract me from my buzzing mind. Eventually, both me and my canine companion drifted off into dreamland.

Notes:

This is a short one, but the next one should keep you all on your toes :)

Chapter 13: Her Job

Summary:

Lor doesn't go to work today...

I woke to an incessant swatting at my face, the slight scratch of claws raking across my beard yanking me abruptly from what was a peaceful, alcohol-induced slumber.

 

“Taraaaa…” I groaned, turning into my pillow in an attempt to avoid her onslaught. “I’ll feed you when I get up…”

 

”Mrrrrow.” she mewed. I could recognize the disdain in her tone.

 

Her meowing ground against the wine-headache that roared in my skull, making me wish I could bury myself further into my pillows and shield any outside noise that dare try and bring me into reality.

 

”Mrrrrrrrow.” Tara persisted, kneading her paws into my side.

 

I groaned.

 

I heaved a breath before gathering the energy to sit upright in bed. Tara leapt off the mattress and looked up at me with wide, begging eyes.

 

“Yes, yes. I’ll get you your breakfast.” I mumbled, the words dragging from my throat and coming out gravelly and groggy.

 

I begrudgingly pulled back the covers and stepped into my slippers, securing my robe with a knot around the waist as I walked to the kitchen. I opened the fridge, grabbed a packet of Tara’s raw food mix and tore it open.

 

“Mrrrow.” She meowed contentedly, weaving between my legs and letting her tail brush against my calf lovingly.

 

“You are spoiled rotten.” I murmured, filling her bowl and dusting it with a few additional nutrient powders before stepping away.

 

She dove toward the bowl, eagerly digging into her breakfast with complete disregard for me as soon as she had what she wanted.

 

“Don’t forget who curates that food for you, Tara.” I tutted. “I think he at least deserves a few extra hours of sleep for all he does for your highness.”

 

She swished her tail in a pathetic recognition of my ramblings, and I rolled my eyes as I wandered into the living room. I sprawled on the couch, holding a palm to my forehead as I felt a pressure pounding on my skull.

 

“Damn that wine.” I grumbled to myself. “I should know by now that I can’t avoid hangovers like I used to.”

 

I shut my eyes, the light of the rising sun peeking through the window becoming entirely too harsh for my alcohol-riddled brain to absorb at this hour in the morning. How many glasses did I have? Five? Six? I peeked one eye open to look at the two empty bottles on the dining room table, waiting to be recycled.

 

My stomach lurched at the sight of them. I didn’t want to see another glass of wine for a long while. My nausea only intensified as I considered how Lor might be feeling this morning. I ached to think that my inclination to open a second bottle would put her in any form of discomfort. I thanked God I didn’t open a third.

 

I kept my eyelids low as I glanced at my wrist to see the time. There was still a bit over an hour before the Coffee Creche opened. Perhaps I could pay for a pastry for her to ease any lingering effects of our libation-filled evening.

 

The hum of pain that resonated in my head urged me to keep my eyes shut, the lull of it eventually carrying me back into a fitful nap wracked with feverish dreams.

 

When I finally blinked back awake, there was a soft mound purring on my chest, slumbering as soundly as I had ever seen her.

 

“Rise and shine, Tara.” I mumbled, my vision gradually clearing as I sat up slowly.

 

I glanced at my watch again, delighted that the buzzing in my brain wasn’t as prominent as it was before. However, my delight was transformed to horror as I realized I had been napping for three hours.

 

“Shit!”

 

I hurriedly took Tara off of my chest, gently putting her on the sofa to continue resting as I rushed to get dressed. I was usually at the Creche with at least one coffee down by now- not to mention four pages written. I was falling behind on the sequel enough as it was, to forfeit my morning productivity was borderline criminal.

 

”Mrrrrow.” Came the grumpy protest of Tara, who groggily bared her fangs in a yawn on the sofa.

 

“Apologies, Tara.” I called to her through the open bedroom door as I rummaged through my dresser. “I’ve got to be off to the coffee shop. That is- I was meant to be there two hours ago.”

 

Tara waltzed into the bedroom, slinking along the walls and letting her tail glide along any surface it could reach. She glared at me as if she was… suspicious.

 

“I’ll be back later. As I always am.” I assured her as she bumped my leg with her head. “Have I ever failed to come back to serve you your supper?”

 

She purred against my calf and I gave her a final head scratch before buttoning my peacoat and slipping on my casual loafers.

 

“Behave yourself, now.” I said, bidding her a fond farewell and heading out the door.

 

The sky was slightly overcast today, the grey of the clouds reflecting precisely how I felt having started the day off so imperfectly. Nevertheless, the walk to the Coffee Creche was a part of my morning-time (now closer to noon-time) ritual that was often a source for inspiration. Inspiration could come from all sorts of strange sources in a city like Baldur’s Gate, and I was glad for it. Little bits of a conversation overheard out of context could begin a riveting dialogue, trinkets in shop windows could become fantastical ancient artifacts, or strangely shaped twigs could shift into silhouettes of weapons of divine power.

 

That being said, the sky opening up and pouring rain all over me wasn’t something that felt particularly inspirational.

 

“Gale!” I heard Jen gasp from behind the counter as I hastily stepped through the door of the Coffee Creche.

 

Before I even knew it she was standing right in front of me, fussing over me like I was her own child.

 

“You’re soaked through!” She gasped, helping me out of my peacoat and hanging it on a coatrack that hung by the door.

 

I shook my head, feeling locks of my dampened hair stick to my face as I chuckled. “It didn’t start until I was nearly here- really, it’s not so bad.”

 

“At least sit by the radiator today.” She encouraged, pulling out a chair at a table much closer to the register than I was used to.

 

“I suppose a change of scenery is always good for the soul. Particularly a cold, wet soul.” I chuckled, glancing up at Jen as she smirked and crossed her arms.

 

“Your usual, then?”

 

“Please.” I nodded in thanks. “Where’s Lor?”

 

Jen pursed her lips. “Ah, she is out today. She called in, said she wasn’t feeling well.”

 

Immediately my heart sank to my stomach. Gale, why do you need to crack open your entire bloody wine cabinet to have a simple conversation?! I tried to mask my horror at the realization that I was likely the culprit of her illness. Perhaps I’d be making a pastry delivery instead, along with a sincere apology for her probable hangover.

 

“Oh, no. I’m sorry to hear that.” I commiserated, trying to sound casual amidst my inner panic. “Do you have enough staff for the day?”

 

Jen waved a hand dismissively. “With this weather I doubt we will get many more customers. I’m not worried.”

 

“I am.” Piped up ‘Zel from behind the counter. “I’m not even sure we’ll make enough today to cover the electric bill.” She sighed. “Espresso machines aren’t the most environmentally efficient…”

 

Jen rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind her. Can I get you anything else?”

 

“Yes, two croissants to-go please. Chocolate.”

 

“You got it.” She shot me a toothy grin and scurried back behind the counter.

 

I broke out my laptop, ready to write as I waited for my hot coffee. My body begged for a hot drink to chase away the chill of the rain. I read over the last few sentences I had written in the document to refresh my memory of where the characters had left off.

 

Their adventure was coming to a peak now. There were big decisions to be made, high risk maneuvers to be undertaken. However, I struggled to find which steps each character would take in accordance with their morals. In truth, I struggled to focus on the document at all while I imagined poor Loren suffering the after-effects of my wine.

 

“Here you are.” Jen said, setting a steaming mug beside me alongside a paper bag. “And the croissants too.”

 

I cupped the mug in both hands, reveling in the warmth it gave off. “Thank you.” I said sincerely.

 

“No problem.” Jen said, giving a polite wave before returning to her other orders.

 

I sipped on the coffee leisurely, staring at my laptop screen blankly as if it would magically tell me what to write next. It was no use. I couldn’t write a thing until I knew Lor was alright.

 

I went up to the coffee counter where Jen had her back turned to me, fussing with one of the coffee machines. “Is there any way I could get this in a to-go cup?” I set my mug on the counter.

 

She turned to look at me with a raised eyebrow. “Leaving so soon?”

 

I rubbed my neck sheepishly. “Yes, I… I’ve got something I need to do.”

 

Jen nodded, took my mug and began transferring it to a paper cup for me instead. She snapped a lid on it and slid it across the counter.

 

“Thank you, again.” I said, placing a few bills on the counter for her. “Keep the change.” and I was out the door.

 

“Stay dry!” Jen called after me. Unfortunately, there was practically no chance of that happening.

 

The rain came down in buckets, and in my haste to get out the door, I left my peacoat hanging on the coat rack. I scoffed, looking back in the window and seeing it hanging there. It’s fine- it was wool. It would get ruined in rain this heavy anyways.

 

I stepped out into the road and waved a hand high in the air in hopes to hail a cab. To my surprise, a yellow car pulled off to the side and blinked his high beams at me.

 

“Thank you kindly.” I said as I ducked into the backseat.

 

“Sure thing. Where to?” The gruff gentleman in the driver's seat asked.

 

“Ah- the tan brick apartment building about 10 or 12 blocks up on the right.”

 

He nodded, palming the gearshift and turning up the windshield wipers a notch.

 

I ran my fingers through my drenched hair, trying to pull it back away from my face and eventually managing to put it in some semblance of a half-bun with an elastic I found in my pocket. I already felt the panic building about how much of a mess I must have looked.

 

“Alright, kid. We’re here.” The driver said, pulling off to the side.

 

I pulled out a $20 without even looking at the cab fare. “This covers it?”

 

The driver nodded.

 

“Thank you!” I hurried out of the car and under the awning of the apartment building. I tried tugging on the door- but it was locked. I saw a small slot meant for a key fob.

 

“Dammit.” I muttered under my breath. Glancing around I saw a callbox, but my hope was slashed as I realized I didn’t know Lor’s apartment number. Apparently there were six floors? That didn’t give me much of a chance if I were to guess, either.

 

“Scratch, your barking really isn’t helping.” A familiar voice came from behind.

 

I whipped around, seeing Lor step through the front door of her building with Scratch on a leash and a palm pressed to her forehead.

 

“L-Loren! H-Hi.” I stammered, surprised to see her appear before my very eyes.

 

“G-Gale?!” She gasped, pulling the hood of her sweatshirt over her head and tightening the strings with a look of complete mortification on her face. “What are you doing here?!”

 

Scratch paid little mind to me, walking over to a fire hydrant to relieve himself.

 

I held up the paper bag that was now slightly soggy from the weather. “I- well, you weren’t at work so I- Do you want a croissant?”

 

She shook her head, smiling and pinching the bridge of her nose. “Yeah. I’d love one.” she scoffed a laugh, gesturing to me. “You’re soaking wet.”

 

I shrugged. “So is Scratch.” I waved toward the dog as he wandered out from the shelter of the awning, basking in the rainfall.

 

Lor tugged on his leash to pull him out of the rain. “Scratch!” She scolded. He shook out his fur, sending drops of water out in every direction.

 

“Come on in, I’ll show you up.” Lor said, opening the door with a wave of her key fob and making a turn up the stairs.

 

I followed her up three flights, down the hall to number 307. She stepped inside and kicked off the slides she was very stylishly wearing with socks on.

 

“Sorry if it’s a mess. I’ve been a wreck all morning- but I’m sure you can tell.” She said, sounding utterly exhausted and pulling off her hood.

 

It was only then that I really got a good look at her. She did look drained. Her eyes were sunken in dark circles that were only accentuated by how pale her skin looked. Not to mention her hair which was messily strewn in several different directions. It was tied back, yet it seemed to be taking on a mind of its own.

 

“No, not at all.” I assured her, refusing to make her feel any worse than she evidently already did.

 

To her credit, her apartment looked fine. It was fairly bare-bones from what I could see. A couch and a TV, a shoe rack and a coat hanger- nothing complicated. Her kitchen counter had a bit of a jumble of things on it, but it was nothing compared to my mess of a workdesk at home.

 

It was her I was really worried about.

 

“Oh! Take your scarf- it’s on the hanger.” She said, pointing to the beige tartan wool that hung next to Scratch’s leash by the door.

 

I slung it over my shoulder.

 

“I hate to think you’re not feeling well because of my tendency to over-indulge in wine.” I admitted sheepishly, setting the bag of croissants on her counter and sitting at one of the kitchen barstools.

 

“Well to be fair, I was the one who over-indulged. I should have known I’d pay the price for downing that last glass.” She scoffed.

 

I handed her a croissant. “Well, even so, I hope you’ll accept this as an apology.”

 

“Happily.” She said, smiling as she took the pastry and took a generous bite. She hummed with delight and her eyes rolled back as she chewed on it. “Oh my god. This is so much better than it has any right to be.”

 

I chuckled. “It’s from your own shop- surely you’ve had one before.”

 

She shook her head. “But to have one after you’ve been doing nothing but vomiting all morning is a different story. I’m starving now.”

 

I felt her words tighten around my heart and give it a squeeze. Ugh, the poor thing. The alcohol really made her sick- I felt terrible. At least her appetite was coming back, now.

 

“Well, what are you in the mood for? I can go pick up lunch if that suits you.”

 

She swallowed the bite of her croissant, giving me a stern look. “No, no. You don’t have to do that.”

 

“I know I don’t have to, I’m offering.”

 

“Ugh…” She slumped over the counter, raking her fingers through her hair. She looked down at the floor with a crease above her brow. Something was up.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“How very convincing.”

 

“Nothing, I just…”

 

I waited for her to complete her thought.

 

“I really shouldn’t be eating out right now. After missing today’s shift, and getting dismissed early the other day…”

 

“Oh. I hadn’t realized. I don’t mind paying if you-”

 

“No- that’s exactly what I don’t want.” She interrupted. “I don’t need you to come save me. I can make meals on my own. I can’t be fulfilling every single craving I have for Barcus’s Deli.”

 

I raised an eyebrow and smirked playfully. “Barcus’s eh?”

 

She clicked her tongue, annoyed. “No, Gale. I can heat up soup and sustain myself just fine. I’m a grown woman.”

 

“Well, that may be, but perhaps a certain grown man finds himself in the mood for a hearty Reuben to warm his rain-chilled body.” I tied my scarf around my neck.

 

I could hear her stomach growl from across the counter.

 

“...Well, maybe a certain grown woman should accompany you.”

Notes:

Surprise!! A chapter from Gale's perspective!! After twelve chapters of Lor I figured it's about time we knew what was going on in HIS head.

Chapter 14: Her Order

Summary:

Gale and Lor grab lunch, but Lor's hangover won't let up.

“But Gale, it’s only a 10 minute walk”

 

“It’s raining.” I said, pointing at the sky as if she had no idea where the weather came from.

 

“But it’s not worth calling a cab over.”

 

I scoffed and shook my head. “I’d say a measly cab-fare is worth not getting pneumonia over. Besides, it’s on my dime.”

 

I could see Lor shrink into herself, pursing her lips and crossing her arms over her chest as I insisted we get a ride to the deli.

 

“Does it really make you that uncomfortable? To let me pay?” I asked her. I didn’t want to drive her away with my attempts to be courteous, my only intention was to help.

 

She opened her mouth to respond, but the honk of the cab cut her off as the bright yellow car pulled up to the apartment building awning.

 

I stepped forward to open the door for her. “Ladies first.”

 

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, getting in and sliding across the backseat.

 

“Barcus’s Deli, please.” I prompted the driver as I buckled my seatbelt.

 

“You got it.” I caught the driver wink at me in the rearview mirror. “It’s really rainin’ cats and dogs out there, ain't it?”

 

“It certainly doesn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon.” I observed, gazing out the cab window out into the gloomy-looking cityscape.

 

Puddles gathered beneath the lip of the sidewalk, and shop windows fogged up from the chill of the rainwater. It might almost be pretty if everything wasn’t cast in a haze of gray.

 

It was a short cab ride, a lot like the one I had hailed from the Coffee Creche to Lor’s apartment. Barcus’s was only across the street from the coffee shop anyways.

 

“Thank you kindly.” I said to the driver, leaving him a few bills as a tip on top of paying the fare.

 

I quickly got out of the cab and spun to the other door to let Lor out, bowing like a butler on her payroll.

 

“Thank you, kind sir.” She said in an uppity voice, playing along with my royal treatment for just a moment before returning to normal. “Now- get inside. You’ll catch a cold.”

 

I laughed, shutting the cab door and following behind her as she rushed inside the Deli.

 

Immediately the sound of the sizzling grill in the back coupled with the minimal space to stand while there were more than two customers ahead of us really gave the restaurant a small-town feel.

 

“What would you like?” I leaned toward Lor's ear so she could hear me above the bustle of the restaurant kitchen.

 

She shrugged. “The Reuben sounds good. Everything here is good.”

 

“Two Reubens it is.”

 

The customers ahead of us ordered a chopped cheese sandwich and an italian grinder, and I could hear the clack of knives against the grill as the food was being prepared.

 

“What can I get for you?” The gentleman at the register asked as we approached.

 

“Two Reubens on rye, please.”

 

The cashier glanced at Lor with a raised eyebrow. “Light on the sauerkraut, right?” He asked her with a smirk.

 

Lor smiled and nodded. “You remembered.” She said with a light laugh.

 

“Ah, how could I forget?” He grinned. “Coming right up.”

 

“Thank you, Barcus.” Lor said as the gentleman stepped back into the kitchen to prep orders.

 

“Come here a lot, do you?” I asked her, and her face flushed slightly.

 

“I used to. It was my favorite lunch spot when I first got to the city. Funds have gotten a little tighter, so it’s more of a special treat, now.”

 

“Well, technically, you funded this meal.” I said pointedly, smiling lightly at the confusion on her face.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, you bought my book. Therefore the funds going towards these two delectable sandwiches originated from your coffers- not mine.” I folded my arms proudly.

 

She grimaced at my technicality. She seemed a bit upset at my attempt at banter- but her eyes lit up when Barcus slid the two tin-foil wrapped sandwiches across the counter.

 

“Thank you, folks. Enjoy.” He said with a smile.

 

“Thank you, sir.” I nodded, taking a plate in each hand. “Want to sit?” I asked Lor, glancing around and noting the only available spot was at the lonely outdoor bistro table under an umbrella. It didn’t exactly look… dry.

 

She took a wobbly step toward the door, shaking her head. She squinted her eyes, holding her fingertips to her temple. “N-no. Let’s go home.” She murmured, grabbing my shoulder to keep her upright.

 

My heart pounded as she leaned against me, her face looking slightly feverish. “Oh, dear. Let’s.”

 

I helped her steady herself as I hailed another cab, but this time the short ride felt like eons long.

 

“My head feels like it’s going to split in half.” She moaned, cradling her face in her palms during the car ride.

 

“Deep breaths, we’re almost there. We’ll get you a hot drink and a cold towel.” I assured her. I absentmindedly rubbed soothing circles on her back, hoping it would ease her pain just the slightest bit.

 

She didn’t protest, but I felt a bit awkward once I realized what I was doing. I hesitated, considering if I should stop, when my decision was made for me.

 

“Here you are.” The cab driver said, coming to a halt.

 

“Thank you again, sir.” I nodded, paying the fare and helping Lor out of her seat.

 

She fumbled with her keys for a moment before I took them from her, using the fob to open the door to the lobby and stopping at the foot of the stairs.

 

“Is there… an elevator?” I asked, glancing around. I saw a row of mailboxes for the different complexes and an empty front desk.

 

She shook her head weakly. “No… That’s part of why the rent’s so cheap. The other part is that the only sink is in the kitchen.”

 

“What? Where do you brush your teeth?”

 

“The kitchen.”

 

“Can you make it up the steps?” I asked, stepping slightly away from her to let her stand on her own.

 

She wobbled slightly. “Maybe…” She took a hesitant step forward, her weight shifting to one side and slumping into the stair railing.

 

“Maybe not.” I said decidedly, rushing to her side once again. “Can you hold these?” I asked, passing her the sandwiches.

 

“Yeah, sure, but why- AAaah!”

 

I swept her up in both my arms and she curled into herself, keeping her head pressed against my shoulder.

 

“Gale- what are you doing?!” she exclaimed, shifting slightly in my arms.

 

“Making sure you get back to your bed in one piece. If you fall on these steps your head might really split in half.”

 

“Ugh” she groaned. “You’re lucky I don’t have the energy to argue.”

 

“And you’re lucky I kept my gym membership when I moved here.”

 

I hauled up the steps, taking brief pauses at the top of each flight, until finally we arrived at door 307. I set Lor back on her feet and fumbled with her keys again.

 

“Lay down on the couch, I’ll brew you some tea.”

 

“But I’m hungry…” she whined.

 

“Eat your sandwich- Slowly.” I said sternly.

 

By some miracle, she listened. She sprawled out on the sofa, pulling a throw blanket over her and shutting her eyes. Scratch came from what I could assume was the bedroom, poking his nose toward her face.

 

“I’m okay boy. Just dizzy.” I heard her speak softly to him.

 

After a few minutes meddling in the kitchen, I brought her a cup of tea.

 

“It’s Hibiscus. I was hoping for more of a Chamomile for dizziness and an upset stomach but it was all you had.” I set it on the coffee table.

 

“Thank you, Gale.”

 

I noticed she had taken a few bites of the sandwich. Scratch curled up on the couch staring wantonly at the corned beef, but restrained himself.

 

“Careful with that Reuben- Scratch is foaming at the mouth.”

 

“He won’t eat it. He knows better.” She sat up and sipped her tea. “Oh! But would you put his food out? It’s about lunchtime for him.”

 

I nodded, going back to the kitchen to feed his bowl.

 

“It’s the cabinet beneath the sink!”

 

I suppressed a laugh at the obvious cup holding her toothbrush and toothpaste sitting beside the sink before I opened the cabinet. In an instant, I heard Scratch pitter-patter across the room to sit at his food bowl politely.

 

“Such a gentleman.” I praised, taking a scoop of food and placing it in his bowl. “Go on.” I encouraged him, and he was immediately fully absorbed in his lunch.

 

“Do you need anything-” I paused as I came back around to the front of the couch, seeing Lor’s eyes were closed and her breathing was rhythmic and soft. She was asleep.

 

I pressed my lips together, not wanting to wake her. I glanced at the door. Should I leave? Would she want me here while she is asleep? I felt terrible. She was only sick because of my own foolish proclivity for wine. She had lost an entire day’s worth of pay because of me and all I could do for her was get her a measly sandwich.

 

I went to my messenger bag, quietly taking out my laptop and settling in on the couch at her feet. I would get a bit of writing done while I monitored her- it was only polite of me. She wasn’t well, obviously, and leaving her alone would be entirely irresponsible. If she woke up, or needed anything, I could help. Besides, the rain was still coming down in buckets- it would save me another cab fare.

 

I resumed working on the sequel. At this point in the story, Karissa has departed from Lars in the midst of their quest they had begun together. Lars is struggling to continue on without the support of Karissa’s magic strength, but he is at the very least, still standing.

 

I scratched my beard. Where would Karissa be, now? What would she be doing in order to resolve her conflicted emotions about Lars’ past? I started typing away some concepts, and from those concepts bloomed a few more ideas about their former interactions. I went back a few chapters to slightly edit some wording and include a bit of foreshadowing in their conversations. Suddenly, the story was falling into place.

 

I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so confident in my writing. I was focused, energized, and words were pouring out of me as steadily as the rain outside. I unwrapped my Reuben and ate it in between writing paragraphs, careful not to let the crinkling of the tin foil get too loud and wake Lor. I felt like I had entered some sort of Zen state- fully immersed in the setting of the story and writing character dialogue as if I was Lars or Karissa. It was something I had never experienced when writing the first book. Something I hadn’t experienced at all before, really. I occasionally glanced over to make sure my frantic typing didn’t disturb Lor’s sleep.

I suppose I never considered how different my life in Baldur’s Gate could be from someone like Lor. I was fortunate enough to receive a generous settlement during the divorce, not to mention my savings during my editing at Waterdeep Writing. It allowed me to purchase a townhouse of my own in the city so I didn’t have to worry about rent. And now, the royalties from ‘Woven into Reality’ put me in a position where I didn’t have to worry myself with cab fares or eating out.

 

And Tara was blissfully spoiled with her raw diet.

 

Lor had a different lifestyle. She worked hard as a barista so that she could make ends meet. She meal-prepped to save time and money, and did her best to provide for Scratch despite the circumstances of her small living space and minimum wage income. It was inspiring that she had such work ethic, but it also seemed exhausting. I couldn’t get the image of the dark circles under her eyes out of my mind. She deserved to rest.

I didn’t know how long it had been when Loren finally stirred awake. She hummed gently, lifting her head from the throw pillow and blinking her eyes open.

 

“How are you feeling?” I asked, keeping my voice soft in case her headache was still in-tact.

 

She inhaled deeply, sitting up a little. “A lot better.” She murmured, glancing around the living room. “What time is it?”

 

I instinctively looked out the window- but the gray of the outdoors made it difficult to tell. I glanced at the corner of my laptop. I was surprised at how late it got so quickly. “A little past four.”

 

“And you’ve been here the whole time?”

 

“Yeah- just in case.”

 

She huffed a laugh and let her eyes fall closed, her voice groggy when she spoke. “You’re a worry-wart.”

 

“What?”

 

“I said before- I can take care of myself.”

 

“Of course, but-” I leapt to defend my reasoning.

 

“It’s fine. I’m not mad. I’m glad you’re getting some writing done.” She said, gesturing to the laptop.

 

“Oh. Yes. I did.” I nodded, scrolling up to see just how many pages I had written since sitting down. It might have been a new personal record.

 

“If you’re feeling better, I’ll take my leave.” I said, closing the laptop and packing it away.

 

“Oh- there’s no need to rush out. I can make dinner if you’d like- return the favor.” She offered, sitting more upright now.

 

“No, no. I couldn’t ask you to do that- not when you’re just starting to feel better. But I appreciate it, truly.”

 

She sighed. “Well get home safely.” She said, standing up from the couch. “Don’t leave your scarf here.”

 

I chuckled. “That reminds me- I left my coat at the Coffee Creche.”

 

Lor sputtered a laugh. “I was wondering why you were out in the rain without a coat.”

 

I shrugged. “I suppose you just thought me that foolish, huh?”

 

“Maybe.” She giggled.

 

“Goodnight, Lor.” I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “I hope you’re back to normal in the morning.”

 

“Bye, Gale.” She waved, and Scratch lifted his head from where he was resting and let out a little bark as I was stepping out the door. “Scratch, shh!”

 

I chuckled as I hustled down the stairs, sticking my hands in my trouser pockets as I prepared to face the cold, rainy weather. I furrowed my brow as I felt something, and pulled out a crumpled piece of yellow paper.

 

The note from Mystra.

 

I paused at the base of the stairs, unfolding the note to reveal a phone number. I sighed. Maybe I should call.