The Secrets of Lore Seymour

64. Losing the Game

A determined Draven sits next to me at another bar I discovered across the ship. I feel his gaze when I get a drink that never touches my lips. Alcohol and I have never been friends. Often going on missions to find vampires, I couldn't risk drinking. Even now, I think of all the possible scenarios that could arise should I become inebriated.

"Why are we at a bar if you aren't going to drink?" he asks, taking a swig of a red liquid that must be some form of blood. I'm fairly certain he ordered it on purpose to make me gag.

"Why don't you tell Cyan how you really feel about him?" I counter, grinning at the slight twitch in his fingers.

"Is it truly that obvious?" he asks, stumping me. I expected an immediate aversion that he could conjure easily enough, which leaves me sputtering long enough for him to elaborate, "Cyan and me. Are we that obvious?"

"Uh... well, yeah. Cyan much more than you, but the signs are there." My fingers tap against the glass. "Why are you suddenly talking to me about this?" I ask.

Draven chugs his drink and taps the bar to signal for another. "It's easier to talk to someone you don't give a damn about."

"Wow, for a butler you are pretty shit at coating things in sugar. Are you planning to tell me why there has never been an advancement in your relationship? Because from where I'm sitting, you both want that."

"Cyan's not that confident when it comes to relationships."

"Your distant attitude doesn't help. I can still barely believe you have basic functioning emotions even after witnessing the two of you."

Scowling, Draven takes another drink. Seems he is well aware of that, but doesn't quite succeed in stopping himself from upsetting the little firecracker. Can't say I blame him. Cyan's like an eternally burning match. His flame never quite sputters out. Should you risk getting close, he may burn you, but staying away doesn't feel possible either. For Draven, that fire is much more intense.

"It's complicated," Draven mutters, gazing distantly at his drink. He stands prior to further questioning. "I've been babysitting you long enough. Don't start trouble."

"You're actually leaving me alone?" I ask although he has already turned his back to me. Draven waves dismissively, then disappears out of the bar.

Well, that wasn't as deep of a conversation as I was expecting. But I also wasn't expecting Draven to say a damn thing at all. He must be having troubling thoughts of his own. Thoughts that make him question himself and what he wants to do, like I'm having right now.

My chest aches when the memory of Lore next to Phaeron flashes in my mind. I recall their hands intertwined atop the bar. For a brief moment, I see my hand there instead. I slam my drink back because... because who fucking cares who Lore sleeps with?! It's none of my business. I don't care if he and Phaeron had something or if they decided to rekindle that old flame. Not my business, just like it wasn't my business before. Besides, I can get someone too! I'm attractive--

"Seren."

Son of a bitch, I just got rid of Draven! Can't I have a moment of reprieve?

Forcing a smile, I spin in the seat to look back at Lore. He approaches the bar to take the seat Draven once possessed.

"Didn't I say that you aren't--"

"Draven left about twenty seconds ago. I'm surprised you didn't see him leave," I interject with an exhausted sigh. A bowl of mints rests nearby. I grab one from the pile to tug on the wrapper impatiently and as an excuse to look at it rather than him.

"And I'd like it if you left too because I need some time alone. Besides, don't you want to catch up with Lord Phaeron?" I ask.

"Lord Phaeron?" Lore repeats. I feel his gaze burning into my neck as I unwrap the mint. "My, oh my, I know everyone has an addiction, but I'm amazed that I happen to be yours."