Midnight Promises

Fortune Favours the Bold

One drink. Just one. I promised myself as I quickly ducked into Rousseaus', eager to get out of the streaming rain. Apparently I hadn't been the only one with that idea; the bar was packed. I fought my way through the crowd to the bar. I ordered a Bourbon and sat down on probably the very last empty barstool in the place.
As I drank the whiskey, I couldn't help but smile. I'd gotten the fellowship. Me! Not that pompous ass Lawrence. His work was derivative at best. The look on his face: absolutely priceless. I couldn't help but giggle to myself.

"What's so funny?"

The voice was dark, deep but so warm. It felt smooth against my skin and made the hair on my neck stand on end. I turned to that mysterious voice and looked into his eyes for the first time. That deep shade of blue reminded me of warmth, of fire and... danger. His lips were curled into a smirk which made little lines appear next to his eyes. I choked on my whiskey and had to cough.

Great, Emma, just making a fool out of yourself in the first five minutes

He was chuckling now and handed me a napkin as I caught myself.

"Um nothing really. I mean you had to be there I suppose,"  I tried answering his question with some semblance of grace, "I'm Emma, by the way."

"Klaus," he answered smiling and shook my outstretched hand. He had an accent. British I think. It made even just that syllable sound so seductive.

"So is that the only reason you came to talk to me?" I tried to smile coyly, "You just wanted to be in on the joke?"

That earned me a full laugh that made my stomach do somersaults.

"Well, yes, that is what made me come over here but now that I'm here I'm finding more and more reasons to stay."

His eyes looked at me so intensely. I could feel the warmth rising in my cheeks. I looked away smiling. He was too much.

"Well you're more than welcome to stay," I said and smiled at him again. "I'm sorry I can't offer you a seat," I joked.

He smiled and turned to a man that was sitting in the barstool next to where he was standing.

"Shouldn't you be getting home?" He asked the man. His voice sounded... different. It was more- liquid somehow but thick like honey. The man blinked a couple times but then just nodded and left. Klaus sat down on the chair and looked at me, smirk firmly back on his face.

I laughed. "Lucky you I guess."

"Fortune favors the bold, Emma," he teased.

"Audentes Fortuna iuvat," I smiled at him.

He looked surprised before bursting out laughing again.

"That just earned you another drink, young lady," he announced and ordered another bourbon for me and one for himself.

I smiled to myself, proud I could surprise this strange enigma of a man.

"So how do you know Latin?" He asked.

"I don't really. Just a couple phrases here and there. I study Literature so you come across some Latin sometimes."

" A Literature student," he mused, "that I would not have guessed."

"Oh?" I asked. " And what would you have guessed?"

"Hm," he looked at me again with that intensity from before, "I would have pegged you for an artist."

"Really?" I laugh. "What made you think that? I can't paint for shit, unfortunately."

"Your hands," he said, "they're so- delicate. And I felt you were a kindred spirit."

I probably looked confused at the last part so he clarified.

"I'm an artist," he explained.

"Now that I can see," I smiled at him, "you have the tortured artist look down."

"Right on both counts," he murmured, so softly I almost missed it.

We sat there silently just looking at each other. I took him in. He was wearing dark jeans and an olive green shirt, which had a v-neck that dipped just low enough to see some of his chesthair. His hair was a dark blonde and slightly curly. God, I just wanted to run my hands through that hair. I realized I was probably staring and looked down again, nervous smile on my lips.

"So who's your favorite writer then?" He asked. The bar was starting to clear out. What time was it?

"Is it lame if I say Hemingway?" I say, laughing.

"Really? Hemingway?" He said, his smile gleamed, "not lame at all, just surprising. I would've guessed Austen."

"I'm just full of surprises tonight apparently," I joked.

"That you are," he smiled again. I couldn't get enough of that smile.

The bar was completely empty now, except for the two of us. Suddenly I was uncomfortably aware of how close he was. I hadn't noticed before when it was packed and everyone was smushed together but now...

I could just lean forward and kiss him

I looked at his lips. They were so inviting.

If I just lean forward...

"You guys want anything else?"

Suddenly the bartender interrupted my thoughts.

"Oh jeez, um no I don't think so," I said to the bartender, "what time is it?" I asked, flustered at having been ripped from my daydream.

"Little after Midnight," Klaus answered, "do you need to get home?"

"Yeah I probably should," I said, "I have class tomorrow and I still have to finish a short story."

"What's your short story about?" Klaus asked, as he helped me into my leather jacket.

"Vampires," I said.

Klaus coughed behind me as though he had choked on something.

"Are you ok?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah," he answered. He was smiling again. But this was a different smile. As though he'd heard a joke that I couldn't hear.

"I mean it's not like Twilight or anything," I laughed, " not to hate on Twilight: that shit was my bible when I was 14!"

Klaus laughed as he held the door open for me and we stepped outside. The rain had stopped and the air smelled fresh and clean. It was warm and a soft wind blew my dark brown hair out of my face.

"It's  more about how life ceases to be valuable if it's never ending. How can life be precious without death? Like what's the point to living if you can't die? That sort of thing," I explained.

Klaus looked thoroughly amused now, as though I'd just done a standup routine and not rambled about my existential crisis of a short story.

"Something funny?" I asked, smiling but confused.

"I guess you had to be there," he said and winked at me.

I laughed.

"Um so I live two streets that way," I said.

"I'll walk you home."

"Oh, that's really not necessary, it's not far."

"I'm walking you home. This is not a discussion." He smiled.