Work Text:
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His schedule was different today. He drove to the bar three minutes late. It's been 5:35pm everyday. Now it's 5:38pm. What was he up too? Did he get caught up on paper work or slumping around? Did he misplace his keys? Was he crying? Was he saying goodbye to someone? Him saying goodbye seems more unrealistic than him doing paperwork.
I had found the best place to learn about him. On top of the building directly across Forghetty's Pub. The irritatingly familiar sound of the bell above the door ringing. The sound rattled in my ear drums. Broke through the air. Pierced my ear canals. It doesn't help I'm already burning cold. I have been out here three minutes longer than I usually was. It was no surprise I'm starting to feel the slight change in routine.
He wasn't visible through the window. It was too foggy...dirty. It wouldn't kill them to clean their windows. It makes gazing at him irritating. God forbid I look out for the safety of another man. Or, whoever it is who looks after all of us. Whatever savior or God it is proving to be more irritating than reassuring. Look at what this town has done to you, Clay. Can't you see through these thinly vieled, stained glass fables?
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He was sitting in his barstool. One seat to the right from the middle. He was alone. No one else would drink next to him. Even sititng next to him seemed to be a plea for insults. He'd make sure they wouldn't, whether or not he knew what he was doing was up for debate. Either way, it left him drinking alone at the bar. Dolly standing off to the side.
The best move would've been to sit one seat away from him. I didn't. Despite my better judgement, I sat right next to him. He's seen me before. This wouldn't be too shocking for me to sit next to him. Dolly had seen me come in. She looked back down. She didn't want to go anywhere near Clay anymore. I'll drink when I get home.
"Can I get one evening to myself? I don't need company and in fact I like my alone time! Lord knows I don't get it anymore. That baby just screams and cries. No sleep for me. Whatever! Sleep is overrated!" An interesting start to a conversation. He should've recognized me. His words were slurred and his cheeks were red. The heavy bags under his eyes supported his alibi of no sleep.
"Ohh right. The new addition to the family. What'd you name him?"
"Fuckin' Shapey." The want to be left alone slipped from his tone and mind.
"That's his name?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, why?"
"He's so...shape."
"...Congratulations."
"Thanks." I couldn't tell if he was was being sarcastic or not. He had to be. Whatever, it's fine. Soon this won't matter. There was an awkward moment or two of silence. Only ice cubes shaking and clattering aganist the glass in his hand. He stared at me for a moment. I looked at him through the corner of my eye. He hasn't changed too much.
"I know you...Why do I know you?" There we go. Well almost. It hurt more than I thought it would. We are attached at the hip after all.
"I hope so. I was at your babyshower breakdown." Playing it cool was making my stomach churn.
"No. I know you. What's your name?"
"Daniel. My name is Daniel." He stared at me for a couple seconds longer. I could feel his eyes tunneling through me. His eyes narrowed. Searching for any sort of connection inside his whiskey injected, impaired brain.
"Dan...Danielle?" I must've given a reaction because he smacked my shoulder. It had more force than I thought it would. I trapped a wince inside my throat. He didn't seem to notice. "DANIELLE!" He had an asymmetrical, goofy smile on his red face. His eyes sparkled. I was more so embarrassed he had yelled my first name to the bar. I had built a reputation for myself in the months here.
"Mhm." The confirmation buzzed in my mouth.
"Ohh I almost didn't recognize you. You're blond!" This was driving me insane. Nothing is happening like it should. None of this should be happening. "I think you've gotten shorter." Fucckkk me.
"Clay l'v-"
"Why didn't you just tell me who you were? I remember you. Well uhm- obviously not immediately- but still pretty quickly! It would've helped if you provided a name." He almost seemed frustrated for a moment. "But how's life been?" He looked equally expectant as he did cherry colored.
"Life has been...Promising. How about your life? It seems it's going well." I wasn't sure if he could read my sarcasm through his drunken haze.
"Oh right-" He ran his hand through his hair. "-I'm sorry you're seeing me like this."
"Don't sweat it." I nodded to him. He looked back down at his glass. "It's the holidays anyways. It's going to be more stressful than usual."
"Yeahhh- Yeah! You're right!" He looked down at my hands before looking back up at me. It is so remarkably easy telling him what he wants to hear. Scapegoats were his savior and excuses would be used for pray.
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"I'm surprised you're still sitting up." I rested my cheek on the palm of my hand. He smiled.
"I won't be like this for much longer. I can already feel myself tipping over." He laughed and I couldn't help myself chuckle with him.
"Do you remember Mrs. Fitzfire?"
"The uhh-" He started snapping his fingers. "-Geometry teacher? Right?" He drew out the words longer. It sounded like his voice went up an octave. He was dripping in uncertainty. The way his words and breath lingered around my neck was eating at me.
"Yeah her. Remember how she'd always call on you?" Always would be an understatement. It was at every physical moment ever.
"How could I forget?" He laughed again. "It was always when I was trying to finish the work from yesterday too." I laughed with him. The memory of his hand writing getting sloppier and sloppier with how fast he had to write and figure out the answers played in my head. It was always entertaining to watch.
"I remember when you first transferred there." He started and I felt my jaw tense. "You were so used to the fancy boarding schools."
"It was jarring to go from bright, reflective tiled floors to going to a school where there was still blood on the walls from the last fight. In the middle of nowhere." Public highschool was in the top three catastrophic, mind altering events in my life. There was a stark difference between those two schools. And those two different experiences prepared me for adjustments needed for a town like Moralton. I could only imagine what he remembered about me.
"Well if you're going to bring that up, then I will remind you-"
"Don't you do it."
"PE with Mr. Graf."
"You just haaddddd to bring that up, didn't you?" Annoyance crackled in his voice but a small smile on his lips.
"It's hard to forget." I laughed at the thought.
"I was never athletic."
"But you grew up on a farm?"
"It wasn't like I was running laps to get to the chickens."
"Clearly not."
"Yeeaahhh..." He drummed his fingers on the counter. "So many of them died under my care..." He cleared his throat as he slid his hand on the back of his neck.
"Oh?" My eyes shifted from his face to his neck. His shirt collar almost covered his neck completely. He was never one for showing skin. Even if it was just his adams apple. Protecting his throat from people who weren't me. I could see out of my peripherals that he was still talking.
He sighed before turning to face me. "I have to ask-" I tore away eyes away from his neck and back up at his face. I shifted in my seat slightly. "-Why Moralton? You had such a bright future. You were athletic, smart, popular and I'm just trying to wrap my head around why you came here." My heart was thrashing.
My mouth dried out as it tasted like salt. My palms started to wet. My head started to fog. I felt droplets on my back. I could melt snow by just standing next to it. His face. My God, his face. That fucking face. I ran my tongue over my dry teeth as the body language of playing it cool was pulled out from underneath me.
"I couldn't make it. I didn't really have a drive to make something of myself." What a shaky and broad lie. Unfortunately for me, and my future, he was here. He was in this God-fearing town. He went here and stayed here for some inexplicable reason. And I went with him. We truly are made for each other. My eyes focused back on him. He was gripping onto the counter to stay up.
"I don't believe you." Somehow with words slurred and his eyes threatening to roll into the back of his head it made my ribcage clench. Equally anxious, intrested as I was disappointed and aroused. I couldn't even get a man on the verge of passing out to believe me.
"We should get you home." I got up from the stool and pushed the glass away from him. He'd been working on that one for a while.
"What makes you say that?" He was slowly tipping backwards. What a fool. I gestured to his hands clawing the counter to stay up and failing. He grumbled. I was already standing behind him. When he loosened his grip I held him up.
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I drove him home. He kept asking about how he'd get his car. I offered to drive it back to his house if he gave me his keys. He didn't accept my offer. Why wouldn't he trust me? I've been here this entire time. Even when he was home. He surely knows that. I'll know everything.
He couldn't get his keys in the door. I had to unlock the door for him. It was something I had already been used to. I closed the door behind me. It was too cold to leave it open. He didn't even bother going up the stairs. He went ahead and fell onto the couch.
"Don't dissappear, Danielle." He mumbled.
"You'll be seeing me around. Trust me." All I could do was smile. I could still feel the cold on my cheeks and ears. I could see the freezing red all over him. I sighed as I picked a blanket from the chair next to the couch and put it over him. He was already sleeping.
He was so fascinating to watch. The way he looked dead when he was fast asleep was always interesting. The way he put his arms over his head when he slept. The way his shirt would slide up slightly. My mind raced. My bones started to shake. He went to sleep at 11pm. I left at 2am.