Drunken Confession (Julian Devorak)

12 1 2
                                    

🧡

 I'd never seen The Rowdy Raven so... well, rowdy.

The music poured out of every crack and cranny, so loud that when I snuck in through the back, I'd already been listening to Drunken Sailor for two blocks. My appearance paused the song, and everyone cheered before returning to their tune. In my two years of bartending since arriving in Vesuvia, the tavern had never been so packed, either.

I figured it must have had something to do with the winter solstice and the weather — outside, it snowed in big, fluffy flakes, the kind that didn't stick but looked absolutely beautiful. It was the first snow of the winter, and the city reveled in the changing of the seasons. Music and laughter poured into the streets from all over the city, the smell of soup changing the air into something savory and delicious.

But, of course, I had to work.

My friends invited me to go skating on the nearby pond in the forest, but I dutifully turned them down in favor of The Raven. Unfortunately, I had regulars now, and they would never let me live it down if I blew off work to go skating.

"There you are, darling! I've been waiting all night!"

Speak of the devil. I tore off my coat and hung it near the kitchen door with everyone else's. Water flicked out of my hair as I pulled the scarf off from around my neck, adding that to my coat hook. "Good evening, Julian," I said, rinsing my hands before throwing on my apron. "What brings you here?"

Julian Devorak raised his stein of salty bitters, smiling all the while. The man was already tipsy, and well on his way to drunk as a skunk judging from the collection of empty steins around him and ruddy cheeks as red as his hair. "Word on the street was that The Raven was having a special deal for the solstice! Buy one salty bitters... get one free!" he told me, lifting his glass for emphasis before taking a swig, "And I was not about to pass the deal of a lifetime down, my dear!"

I chuckled and shook my head. "You're a sucker for a good deal, J."

"You know me so well," he sighed, his chin plopping into his palm, elbow on the bartop. "How are you celebrating the solstice, dearest? Dancing? Sledding? Streaking through town?"

"You wish," I laughed, collecting his empties.

The kitchen was packed when I pushed open the door with my butt, but everyone shouted a greeting as I entered. I laughed and weaved through the bodies. The sink was full, crowded with glasses and earthenware bowls, but the dishwasher kept up with good spirits. No pun intended. Get it? Spirits like alcohol?

Okay, sorry. Moving on.

Julian brightened when I popped out of the back. He slid on his devilish grin as I approached him, waggling his eyebrows and likely winking, but the eyepatch kind of made that difficult. "What say you to a night of frivolity?" he asked, putting on a posh accent. "Perhaps we could celebrate the solstice together, dear."

Sighing, I picked up his hand between both of mine, sure to grab his full attention. "Julian, dear, I have to work," I said.

"Call out sick!" he crowed, "That's what I do! Besides, it's the solstice!"

I snorted with laughter. "I think you misunderstand, Jules. I am at work right now. Bartending here, at The Raven, is my job, and I can't exactly call out sick when I'm already here, you know?"

His face fell as he tried to comprehend what I'd said, the alcohol slowing his thought processes. "Oh," Julian said quietly, "That... that does make sense. Oh dear." His head flopped forward, his forehead hitting the sticky bar hard enough to probably leave a bruise.

Even over the din of the bar, I could hear him grumbling, muttering about something or other. "J? Are you—?"

He didn't even let me finish my sentence. Julian's head popped up, his one eye brimming with tears. "How am I supposed to confess if you're stuck at work all night? What happens to my elaborate and thoughtful plan?"

My heart tripped in my chest. "Your... what?"

Julian plopped his face into his hands, salty bitters forgotten. He sniffled and said, "I made a whole p-p-plan! I was... was... I was going to to to... Hold on." A gag crawled up his throat, and he slapped a hand over his mouth. "If you could stop smearing around, dear, it would be really helpful for me and my explanation, thank you."

"I will do my best," I said, fighting a laugh. Julian was obviously drunk; he probably didn't mean a word of what he was saying... but I couldn't help but think he was telling the truth. He was typically an honest drunk, telling me bits of his backstory on accident, things that he'd never told anyone before.

He whimpered and peered up at me with his one tired eye. "Maybe this is a dream... you always look perfect in my dreams."

My cheeks flushed, burning like the sun. "Julian, I—"

"If this is a dream," he said, sitting straight up and leaning over the bartop to snatch my face into his palms, holding me inches from his lips, "Then I'm going to practice. My dearest... You're like the sun, showing me the way, warming me, keeping my head above the shadows. I love you, I haven't stopped thinking about you since we met, and... and I would like to kiss you now."

In that moment, I couldn't hear the ruckus, I couldn't see the crowd, I couldn't even taste the sweat and stew in the air. I knew he was drunk, I knew he was probably just spouting nonsense, but... what if he wasn't?

Somehow, I nodded.

He tasted of salty bitters, but I somehow knew from his feverish kiss that he meant every word he said... including the fact that he thought he was dreaming.

Would he believe me tomorrow?

Maybe not... but we had forever to find out.

SWEETHEARTS [flufftober]Where stories live. Discover now