Chapter Text
A man blows into a bar- pushed in by the wind that undoubtedly tousled his messy curly hair. He’s holding a candle in his gloved hands and he looks over the patrons all seemingly waiting for something- and he goes to the bar. he sidles up next to a man hunched over a few pieces of paper with a beautiful guitar in his lap.
He taps his shoulder.
“Got a match I can borrow?” He asks with a confidence the other man wishes he had.
“Sorry what-“ he starts to ask, “oh-“ he pats himself down quickly and pulls a book of matches with the bars branding on it to the other man. “Is that okay?” He asks.
“Perfect.” The man hums, striking a match and lighting the candle, a slight vanilla scent wafting from him. He doesn’t expect it- but the book of matches is slid back to the man.
They sit in relative silence, the man with the guitar plucking notes and strumming chords every so often and the man with the candle glancing at him curiously.
An hour passes- the man with the candle drinks what’s cheapest and hums a song he knows. To the man next to him it’s the most beautiful sound he’s heard in his life. Awkwardly- the man with the guitar stands, almost dropping his instrument (deftly catching it) and he goes into the bar’s back room. He looks urgently for his friend.
“Alana-?” He calls, looking around the kitchen and into her office. “I need advice-“ He continues. She descends from the staircase he neglected to check- the one tucked away next to her office. “-I saw someone-“
“-So beautiful you want to take them home. I figured.” She grins half heartedly. “You wanna talk to this someone?” She asks with a cock of her eyebrow. He nods eagerly. “Just- do it. Don’t come on too strong. But do it. Maybe this someone’ll help you finish that song of yours.” She winks. His face goes a vague shade of pink and he nods, takes a deep breath and goes back out into the bar.
He thanks the Gods above he’s still drinking at the bar and with the courage of a sickly lion, he walks back to the man with the messy hair. He sets down his guitar on the bar top and takes a deep breath.
“Come home with me.” He says point blank and the man chokes on his drink.
“What-?” He chokes.
“Come home with me.” He repeats.
“No I heard that- who- who are you?” He asks incredulously.
“The man who’s gonna marry you.” He answers with a coin of confidence.
“Your name?” He asks.
“Doug- Eiffel. Doug Eiffel.” He says.
“And who am I?” He asks.
“Daniel Jacobi-“ Doug breathes, as if he’s known that name his whole life. “Right?” He asks in an awestruck voice.
“Yeah-“ Daniel’s eyes are blown wide, and he can’t tell if it’s the drink or not if this is real- something he’s experiencing.
“You make me wanna sing-“ Doug says- almost doing just that. “You’re the man that I’m marrying-“ he says, reaching for his instrument.
“Oh- you’re a singer?” Daniel nods, taking another drink. “Is that all?” He asks.
“No- I play the guitar- used to play the lyre.” He adds on with the same grin a child waiting validation would.
“A liar and a player- no thanks.” Daniel shrugs and turns back to the bar.
“I’m not like that-“ Doug says. “You see the world?”
“I live in it.” Daniel says.
“I’ll make it beautiful for you.” Doug promises.
“With what exactly? Only the Gods can change the world- we-“ he gestures between the two of them and Dougs heart sings, “can’t do a damn thing about it. Accept it.” He ends bitterly, finishing his drink.
“With this.” Doug holds up his guitar. “You haven’t heard me sing- I swear- I’ll make this place gorgeous for you.” He smiles.
“Are you always so confident?” Daniel asks with half a crooked grin.
“When I look at you-? I can fly.” Doug answers, earning a bigger smile and an eye roll.
“What else do you see when you look at me.” Daniel asks with his full attention.
“A man stronger than me- someone who survives.” Doug answers honestly. The layering of Daniel’s clothing is no accident- he’s braced for the bitter cold- but not boring. Functional and nice to look at with hidden depths, surely.
“So- why should we get married? What are you bringing to the table?”
“Hope-“ Doug answers. “I can make you feel alive.” He swears.
“Make me feel alive…” Daniel ponders. “That’s worth a lot, you know.” He nods. “What else?”