Book Two : Aveline. | Slash Fanfiction

chapter six

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SIX - 1992, Paris.

          SOMEWHERE WITHIN HIS drunken rambles and confessions, Saul had invited Aveline to participate the remainder of the tour by his side. In his defence, he claimed the roads to be 'awfully lonely' and 'boring' without an accomplice - despite having the rest of the band to joke and horse around with - and decided that he was refusing to take no for an answer.

"Please, Leanie." He'd begged, voice unbearably slurred and sloppy as he crashed the side of his head into her shoulder, leaning his weight against her alarmed figure. As the minutes of his drunken storytelling had passed, Saul grew further and further away from any form of soberness, his intoxication forming a childlike grin on his plumped lips.

Although Aveline believed touring the world to be a magical experience - one that she truly wanted to partake on - She couldn't just up and leave everything she'd ever known behind. "I can't, Saul." They were still at the bar, gaining concerned and dangerously irritated glances from strangers around.

"Sure you can." He pestered, groaning loudly and exaggeratedly. He flopped his cheek against the cool surface of the bar and let out a huff, frowning in frustration; why couldn't she just go? "C'mon, we leave the day after tomorrow." He explained, "Just pack a bag or some shit."

"What about my job?" She attempted to reason. It wasn't exactly a struggle to come up with the several reasons as to why this was such an awful idea, and Aveline had no trouble listing them. But Saul showed no reaction, staring blankly into her eyes as though the information she fired went through one ear and straight out the other. "My apartment? My family? My life?"

"Fuck it all." He shrugged, sluggishly. "Fuck it in the ass with a hatchet." Her brows rose in response but still, she remained silent and allowed him to explain himself in incoherent mumbles. "You don't need it. You won't be gone for too long, anyway, man."

"Saul." She breathed a sigh, "I can't."

"Are you turning me down?" He pouted, a glance of mischief in his chocolate orbs. Aveline raised an eyebrow and nodded hesitantly, afraid of that small twinkle that flashed and danced with his alcoholism. "Okay." He shrugged, sitting upright and glancing his eyes along the space of the room, upon the crowds.

And then, as though the drink gave him dancing feet, he lunged aloft the counter, standing and yelling out for the place to 'shut up'. Aveline felt herself turn a bright shade of pink, the second-hand embarrassment from his idiocy welling throughout her blood.

"This girl," Saul began, his voice loud and scratchy as he pointed to Aveline. Eyes followed his arm and focused their attention on the head of crimson mortification. "Has aids." He stated, a face of stone. Her eyes widened as she received countless dirty looks and sneers from people she didn't know, swatting at the back of his leg with a harsh slap. "And she's really contagious. A total whore, too." Saul knew his words were bullshit, but he needed some form of persuasion to drag her along on this shitty tour. "Remember the green and blue and tell all of your friends."

Aveline scoffed at how corny the speech was, but soon understood his attempt to ruin her quiet reputation. She didn't particularly mind, but if her family were to catch an earful of any form of sexual disease she supposedly carried, she'd never hear the end of it. Though - if she decided to let lose the stupid and compulsive side of herself - touring would mean that she wouldn't have to face the shit Saul had just thrown her into.

"Fuck you." She laughed, slugging him on his bare shoulder the moment he stumbled down from the wood with the help of a few strangers' heads, clinging onto their disaproving features with an apologetic and slurred smile.