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NO, NO. NO, DON'T even try." Dorian lifted his chin in disapproval, and could indeed be mistaken for a man who brooked no disagreement and considered his opinion to be the only true one. "She's been lying all along. Because if he was such an arse and never loved her, he wouldn't have burnt everything down for her."
Unimpressed, Alethea took another sip of her wine as she realised how much she had missed talking to him. Even though they had different opinions, and an outsider might think that this conversation was a heated discussion, it wasn't by the best will in the world.
"I've read this book many times, Dorian. And I can assure you that he is an unreliable narrator and that Aurania is telling the truth. His ramblings about his deceased family or the obviously false feelings towards Aurania: Pathetic. Aleksandr can't feel love and is a highly deranged sociopath who only saw Aurania as his property".
He narrowed his eyes and clutched his glass, searching his mind for another argument to support his position. Her fingers moved slowly over the flame of the candle and she watched as it curled around her fingers without burning her skin.
"Perhaps his thoughts are a bit exaggerated because he's never been loved before and has been forced to improvise. It's much more likely that Aurania is the liar of the two. She tried to poison him while he swore off his god for her."
Alethea snorted and leaned back against her chair. "He didn't do it for her. He did it because he had this demented idea that he himself was a better god. Aleksandr is insane. He probably even killed his father too."
" Now how do we solve this? Do we write a letter to the author? Or kidnap her?" he pondered aloud, sipping from his drink and placing it back on the wooden table so that Alethea could see the candlelight reflected in the glass. When she fell silent for a moment, biting her lip as if actually considering it, Dorian grinned dreamily and nodded slightly towards the exit, signalling that it was time to go.
A yawn escaped her and she glanced at the silver watch around her wrist, shocked to realise that the two friends had already been sitting in the small pub for three hours, chatting about all sorts of things as they drained bottle after bottle of wine.
There was something comforting in talking about her favourite book on a misty autumn day; something that distracted her from everything that was going wrong.
With a nod and the knowledge that she had won the argument, she drank the last of her red wine, pulled on her winter coat that was hanging over her chair and took the hand he offered as before. Her head swivelled slightly and she giggled as he wrapped his arms around her to keep her on her feet.
The thin air of the dimly lit pub was permeated with a haze of candle and cigarette smoke, mimicking the mist that had settled over the world outside the establishment. Quiet conversation and muttered laughter echoed off the walls, a delightful music in her ears that made her close her eyes.
