Glycerine | Astarion

Chapter Three

Gʅყƈҽɾιɳҽ

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After her run-in during the storm, sleep didn't come easily for Xynaa. Every time she would find herself comfortable enough to fall asleep, all she could see was his face.

The face of the dying man as he bled out right before her. The way his wide eyes faded, just like the color of his skin as he turned colors from a vibrant tan to the deathly pale that was enough to send shivers down her spine.

Or the way that his flowing blood coated her hands. The strange warmth spreading over her skin as it turned it the color of crimson.

The smell of death.

And not only did the dying man linger in her head, so did Astarion.

Xynaa rose from her bed, choking on a breath as she woke startled. Sweat beaded upon her forehead and her heart pounded violently inside of her chest, her body tingling as it grew numb. Delphi sat at the end of the bed, watching her.

The woman swallowed as she pressed a hand to her forehead.

"I think I'm going to keep the shop closed for today." She whispered to Delphi as she pet the long-haired cat. She purred as she rubbed her head against her hand, enjoying her owner's company.

"I just want a day of peace. I need a day away from all of these books, the city."

She would go to her field. She would sit and lay in the freshly bloomed flowers, overlooking the city and what it had to offer. She wanted to feel the sun's warmth on her skin after the hard, cold rain from the past few nights before.

Xynaa stood to her feet and quickly pulled her clothes on before fixing her hair for the day. She cleaned up a few odds and ends before grabbing her pack, slinging it over her shoulder. 

"Delphi, stay here."

The cat stayed on the edge of the bed, her tail swaying as the woman disappeared out the door.

As Xynaa made her way out of the shop, she was stopped by men and women here and there as they watched her leave the shop, down the sidewalks.

"Xy, you're not openin' the shop today?" One of the older customer's asked.

"Not today. I'm taking a personal day." She explained.

He smiled. "Good for ye. You deserve it."

But, did she? The farther she got from her shop, the more guilty she was feeling. The guilt of not telling someone about the man that lay dead in the street, or the man she had seen that night.

Despite her churning stomach and her tight chest, she made her way south of town and headed to the overgrown flower field. Once she arrived, she inhaled the scent of the fresh daisies and the lavender, allowing the aroma to soothe her.

She dropped her pack and walked through the field, closing her eyes as her fingers grazed the stems and their leaves. Basking in the sun, she accepted its warmth and pushed aside the memory of cold wet rain.

She wished she could stay there forever.

And as comforting as the distraction was, it didn't make things go away. The feeling was still there. The guilt of walking away, even the guilt for the odd feeling in the pit of her stomach when she thought of Astarion.