Take Me Home

36. A drink

Rogers P.O.V-

Roger leaned against the brick walls of an old building, watching from the shadows as Freya and Axel continued dancing. He watched them talk, smiling and laughing as Axel twirled Freya again, her braid swinging around. Roger blinked, his heart in his stomach and emptiness surrounding his soul. Axel had kissed Freya. Roger ran a hand through his chocolate waves and looked away, watching a few other younger girls giggle and dance with one another to the bright music. One of the girls caught him looking and she smiled, looking down before turning back and whispering to the others. Roger rolled his eyes to the left, not wanting to see Freya and Axel. He was pretty good at being the third wheel, he had to admit. Anger bubbled up inside of him, jealousy spilling over as he turned, walking down the street and away from the dancing and music.

He shouldn't feel this way. Especially since he was the one to encourage Axel to tell Freya how he really felt.

But for some reason he still felt empty.

Kicking a pebble that was on the path across the street, he continued walking, hands in his pockets. If you don't have a hand to hold then put them in your pockets and keep walking. He turned, his feet leading him across several more streets and then through the darkness of light until he recognized a sign over a small building. It was the bar Ace had shown him.

Roger narrowed his eyes, deciding to grab a quick drink. He had never been one to get drunk or do anything stupid and he always set boundaries, never drinking when he was angry or upset. This was a different case. He would be fine.

Walking across the street and then opening the wooden doors, Roger was greeted by the sight of some men and woman all hanging about the room, some tipping back the last of their shots and others dancing to the songs on the radio that was on the table in the corner. His hazel eyes noticed shapes in the shadows of the dimmed room and he looked away, focusing on the bartender who was waiting by the counter.

"May I help you sir?" The bartender asked, his fingers fiddling with a coin as he eyed Roger. Roger cleared his throat, stepping forward.

"Don't know," his eyes caught the glint of light that reflected off a small bottle sitting back on the counter. "Uh, that. The dubbonet." He muttered, handing the Bartender a few coins.

The bartender poured him a rather large glass to Rogers expectations but it didn't matter. He hadn't had a dubbonet in a long time, it was a classic. Roger took the glass and made his way over to an empty wall, leaning against it as the shadows overtook him. What had he expected? Freya to listen to his childhood nightmares and say she understood?

Roger raised the glass to his lips, hazel eyes clouding.

That she would understand and say she would be there's for him? The first person to be there for him?

He took a long sip, swallowing the sweet and yet bitter flavor.

That maybe his life would be okay for once and he wouldn't be be alone. He would have someone to be there for him.

Memories of the lashes and the bruises appeared and he took another long sip. Letting out a soft cough when he swallowed wrong, Roger shuddered, looking down. This wasn't supposed to happen. He shouldn't have offered to help Axel.

Axel appeared in his mind, the emerald like green eyes wide as Roger swung the silver hammer down at his head. He then saw the blue orbs of Freya as she jumped in front of Axel, eyes wide in fear as she pleaded for him to stop. His eyes narrowed and he lowered the glass, remembering how she had been prepared to protect him. Eyes clouding, Roger looked around the dimmed room, seeing a waitress handing out glasses to some men that were sitting at a table nearby. The girl was under-dressed, that's how he would put it. His eyes noticed her short skirt and her low cut top, and the way her dark curls were up in a bun, little ringlets hanging from the sides of her head. Roger looked away, back down to his glass. Half empty already.