Bar Red's Redemption (Edited)

23: A Little Holy Water

"When I discover who I am, I'll be free."
― Ralph Ellison

I had to re-look up what 'dithering' meant. Why did sixteen year old me know that, but nineteen year old me didn't? Like, girl, please remember what you wrote. Please. That'll make all of this just so much easier.
But my brain says no, the bitch.

Chapter 24:
A Little Holy Water

It's been a week since Conway started to sit at their table and he hasn't left since- unfortunately. He still pissed Bar the fuck off and at first, he tried to flirt with the little goddess but after a few clever and humiliating retorts from Clementine herself, the fucker learned to stop.

The brute was thankful for that much.

He didn't know how for how much longer he could've listened to the brunet make sexual comments and innuendos without knocking the guy flat on his ass but he was sure that it would've been within the realm of 'soon'.

In almost complete opposition, Clementine started flirting with him more.

His little goddess was getting bolder, too, flashing Bar with a cheeky smile before saying something subtly dirtier back to him and occasionally making a comment that made the broken boy want to bend her over his lap and spank her for saying what she did- but equally made him want to take her right then and there.

Bar wanted to kiss her an ungodly amount. He always wanted to.

And, just like he thought, the urge hasn't stopped and he doesn't think it ever will.

It's worse when they're alone, like now.

They were at Bar's apartment, 'studying' as Clementine liked to call it, but really she was just reading and he was being a bit possessive- thoroughly enjoying doing so- and watching her as she got sucked into the world of faeries and politics and lethally structured rhymes that her book brought to life.

He had read the book before, so he knew what it was about and he even had his own copy laying around somewhere.

In every room besides the kitchen and bathroom- but on the balcony, there was a large bookshelf on one of the walls and every single one was filled to the brim with books.

And when Bar ran out of room on the shelves, his tables and countertops and any surface became packed with books, too. He had at least a thousand alone sprawled around his somehow still neat living room and even more in his actual room.

It wasn't his fault that reading had become addicting.

Bar was a book nerd and so was Clementine, but he had a sneaking suspicion that even though he read an exceptional amount, she read even more.

It was fascinating, honestly.

He never met someone who... was so sympathetic towards fictional characters.

He liked reading because he could escape reality without dying but the little goddess- oh, the little goddess looked like she enjoyed reading because it created new people to love, new bonds to make, and secrets to learn.

Watching her read was like watching a whole world be created.

Bar couldn't look away, he couldn't force his gaze to part from her; feeling that, if he did so, the magic he felt would go up in flames.

But, also needing to climb back out of the black hole that sucked his attention away from everything aside from Clementine, Bar stood up from his couch and began to walk towards his kitchen.