𝘊𝘖𝘕 𝘖𝘍 𝘙𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘕𝘎𝘌 | ᴘʀᴇ ʀᴅʀ2

Chapter Twenty-Nine

After more relentless searching through the other side of the city, Rosalie found Arthur passed out at the bar in some backwater saloon near the ports.

It was dim and dusty inside, and mostly empty, the sunlight filtering in through the shutters clamped tight over the windows. She didn't know why out of all places he chose this one. Maybe it was in the hope of no one finding him... but she was here to get him despite what his wishes may have been.

Rosalie walked over to the bar with a deep sigh, her boots thumping against the wooden floorboards. She tilted her head under her hat as her face twisted into a frown, eyes skimming over Arthurs's body slumped against the bar counter.

The bartender blinked at the sight of her. "Can I help you, miss? It's a bit early for a drink." He said, wiping out the inside of a glass with a rag.

It certainly was a bit too early for a drink. It was only the early afternoon. There were probably some people who hadn't even had lunch yet.

"I'm just here to pick up my friend," Rosalie said, stopping beside Arthur.

The bartender huffed. "'Bout time someone did. He's been here since last night, drank up almost all the whiskey we got... I ain't sure how he stomached all that, but he did. I reckon it'll be a painful rest of the day for him. Bound to have a headache." He said with a disapproving shake of his head.

Rosalie grimaced and glanced at Arthur as the bartender walked away.

Arthur's face was pressed against the counter, drool dribbling out of his mouth and leaking onto the polished wood. His neck was bent at an uncomfortable angle, and she was sure he would have a neck ache along with that headache later too. His hat was smooshed against the counter and awkwardly bent off his head.

With another sigh, Rosalie shook his shoulder. "Arthur. Arthur, hey." She said, trying to wake him up.

Arthur didn't budge though, letting out deep snores reminiscent of a hibernating bear. Rosalie shook her head and gave his shoulder a rather firm shove. "C'mon, I can't carry you back to camp, so you gotta get up."

He still didn't move, his fingers twitching slightly as he let out another deep snore.

Rosalie scoffed. He was worse than her snoozing uncle Kurt who could sleep through a thunderstorm. She had to say it was impressive, though it could have been a result of the heavy drinking.

"Arthur, c'mon, you gotta get up!" Rosalie said a bit louder this time, shaking him by the shoulders. His head dropped against the countertop with a painful thump. She cringed, not wanting to think about how it would only add to his ongoing headache later that day.

"You want a glass of water?" The bartender asked, pouring her a cup and setting it on the bar.

"I'm not exactly thirsty," Rosalie said, giving him a sideways look as she shook Arthur again.

Arthur still didn't budge, snoring away like the big bear he was. It was cute at first, but now she was getting fed up. How the hell was he sleeping through this? She was jealous in a way—it would be nice if she could sleep through the world around her like that.

"Not for drinkin', miss. But for pourin' on him." The bartender said with a shrug. "When people don't wake up like your friend here we just toss a glass of water on 'em and that does the job. Usually, that's before we throw 'em out, but your friend is lucky you showed up to take him home."

He tossed the towel over his shoulder and leaned against the bar. He twiddled with the end of his thick, brown mustache with a twinkle in his eye. "Say, he your boyfriend, miss?" He asked.