Sunday morning found James alone in the empty pub, meticulously counting bottles of liquor, jotting down numbers, and occasionally glancing at the grandfather clock Sirius insisted was 'vintage' and not 'hideous'. It's only 11am which means Sirius won't be coming in for atleast five hours, possibly even later depending on what state he ended up in last night.
After James closed up he had absolutely no interest in discovering whatever situationship his roommate had found himself in. As soon as he walked into the flat he made a beeline to his bedroom, taking especially heavy footsteps to ward off any accidental path crossing. Although, he did notice there wasn't a sock left on Sirius's door. He wasn't sure whether this was a good sign or a bad one. Regardless, he slipped into a restless sleep, dreaming of blue-grey eyes, hidden smiles, stifled laughs, tailored black suits, tiered vanilla cake, big white dresses, matching gold rings, and- oh, fuck it. Lets just say he didn't have a great night. This carried on into his not so great morning. With aching bones, tired eyes, not enough coffee, and not enough Sirius to spill all of his feelings to, James was left alone in the flat, drinking tea infront of the telly and doing everything in his power to not think about Reggie.
Really, his angst was less about Reg and more about himself. Normally, he doesn't have too much trouble silencing the little insecure voice in his head whispering that he's not good enough. He knew that already. And James isn't the type of guy to wallow in self pity and sob over silly voices that belong to nobody. Instead, he faces his problems head on and finds fantastic solutions. Sporting unwavering optimism, tireless positivity, and stopping at nothing to make sure everybody he's ever met likes him. The thought of someone not liking him made the voice in his head shout a little louder. So far today, it was fixated on shouting about Dorcas.
James didn't know Dorcas from a bar of soap. He only exchanged very few words with her, something along the lines of 'What can I get you ?' to which she replied 'Midori Sour'. It took a lot of self restraint to stop himself from saying ' You know, if you actually read the menu, you'll find it's called a 'Polyjuice Potion' here, because I clearly think I'm very funny and very clever and not a complete and utter cockhead.' ...No. That might have come across as rude.
He had no problem with her, really. She seemed nice enough and she was very pretty. James even took a moment to feel happy for Reggie. He couldn't be cross with someone for having a lovely fiancé. That's all he wanted too. No, he wasn't cross with either of them really, only with himself.
The kind of person James thought he was, the one he wanted to be, was kind and helpful and just. He was the type of guy to leave seeds out to feed birds and help old ladies in Tesco who couldn't reach the top shelf. He wasn't the type of guy to flirt with married men. And he definitely wasn't the type of guy to keep thinking about flirting with all but married men, even after knowing well and truely about their engagement. And having met their partner! What a horrible person you are , the voice in his head snarled. Atleast I am a person you prick , he fired back. It went on like this for a very long time. Until he'd counted every bottle of drink behind the bar and written a list atleast 10 items long of things that needed immediate reordering.
He was very busy thinking about last nights Arsenal game, what he could make for dinner, new cocktail recipes and the morality of stealing a pack of KP nuts from his own pub, when finally, an actual customer walked in. Thank Merlin ! He thought, Something to take my mind off of -
YOU ARE READING
Brides and Blacks
عاطفيةJames has never been happier working behind the sticky, crowded bar than when he comes face to face with the most perfect stranger he's ever met. That is, until he realises that Regulus is engaged to Dorcas. Maybe if he spent a little less time argu...
