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The Purple Skag was especially quiet tonight, the only sound was the soft music from the jukebox in the background. But it was easy for him to find Fiona since she had kept herself at the booth where the table was littered in empty glasses. He lets out a frustrated sigh as he walks toward her because he’s not sure what triggered her to want to get that drunk when she was alone. He’s just glad she chose this bar where Sasha and August could keep an eye on her and not one where God knows what could happen. Of course, she could defend herself, but from what he sees now, she’s in no position for it. He touches her shoulder and it causes her to twitch from shock. The first thing he notices is the look of misery when she shifts her eyes from the drink to him. And he immediately wants to wrap an arm around her and ask what’s wrong, but then she perks up.
“Rhys!” she’s almost shouting, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her this excited to see him, “I didn’t think you’d come.”
Then, he remembers that it was Sasha who had called him up at almost 1 in the morning because Fiona refused to leave without seeing him first. The thought of that made him confused yet fuzzy at the same time.
“Of course I did. Why are you here, Fi?” he uses the nickname because he figures she’s too drunk to slap him for saying it.
Her hand lands on his and it’s warmer than he thought it’d be, “I haven’t seen you in a while. Where have you been?” she’s pouting now. It’s a small one that he has to blink a few times to make sure is real.
It has been a while since he’s seen her, maybe a few weeks actually, but could it really be his fault? He had Atlas to run and that wasn’t easy. And every time she called he’d be too busy and promised to call back, which she sounded just as sad as she looked tonight when he said that before he was pulled away to meetings or business lunches and suddenly he feels like the jackass she always claims him to be.
“I’m sorry,” the words felt poisonous. The last time he remembers apologizing to her was when Felix died and this situation isn't exactly the same as that one.
“Sorry? Don’t be. We have alcohol and I get to spend the night with my best friend. What could be better?” clearly it was fake, but she kept smiling like she wasn’t hurt, like she didn’t want to cry, but that wasn’t happening in front of everyone. Especially Rhys. He just smiled at her, but he was worried that she was holding something in. Yet he didn’t think pushing it would do any good, “You look like you could use a drink.”
“No, I didn’t come here to dr-” but he’s interrupted by her shouting out for August to bring him the same as what she’s having and that’s when Sasha pops out from the back with a rag on her shoulder and a glass that looked like the empty ones on the table. Someone really should clean those.
“I was wondering when you were going to show up,” she’s in front of them now with her hands pressed into the table and bright smile tugging at her lips. Only a moment later does he realize Fiona’s gripping his hand, so he looks her way and the hat is shielding her eyes.
“How long has she been here?”
She sits the glass in front of his hand, “About three hours. She showed up, subtly asking about you, and one drink led to this,” she points a finger at her, but she still refuses to look up, “I didn’t want her to wander the place alone and I’ll be working until morning, so can you stay with her?”
“Yeah, I think I’ll take her back to my apartment. She seems like she needs some sleep,” he responds and Sasha mumbles a thank you before moving around to help the other customers. He tries to stand up until Fiona falls to the side and lands in his lap, “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m…” she pauses to finally meet his eyes again and the look of awe takes him by surprise, “Wow.”
He pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, “What?”
“Your eyes are beautiful. Have I told you that? I don’t think I have,” her comment turns into her whispering to herself while he tries to comprehend what she said. What stops his thoughts is her pushing herself against him and her lips were so close and he just wanted to do something other than stare at her.
“You haven’t,” he feels a need to compliment something about her, but there was so much he could say and she was already turning away from him, “And as much as I’d like to continue this, I need to get you to bed.
“Rhys, you’re so nice to me,” her voice was shaky and she’s definitely had too much to drink, so he takes the glass away from her. Not before she pouts again.
“You’ve had enough. We really need to get y-”
“What did you mean when you said you were interested in someone else?”
He felt like his night just took a huge turn that he wasn’t prepared for. She was, after all, bringing up a conversation they had months ago that he was sure she forgot about. He was almost glad that she didn’t forget about it, “That’s not something I want to discuss when you’re drunk.”
“Then, when is a good time? Before you hang up on me for the millionth time to go play around with your corporate buddies?” it was her own way of saying he wasn’t acting like a decent friend, it basically felt like a slap to the face except it hurt much worse. Suddenly, she looked as miserable as she did when he came up to her and tears were brimming her eyes.
“I just think that- Look, I want to discuss this with you, but I want to do it when I know you’ll remember it, okay?”
She’s hesitant and glares around the entire room before she agrees, “I’ve had a rough night, haven’t I?”
“Yes, you have. And I think it’s my fault.”
***************
She wakes up tangled in sheets in a bed that wasn’t hers and she has the worst headache she’s ever had. The taste alcohol, mixed with the smell of it, makes her feel nauseous. But then she spots something that makes her forget everything. Her hat on top of a table next to the bed that’s identical to the one in Rhys’ office. It wasn’t possible for her to be there… was it?
“Finally awake?” the sound comes from the now open bedroom door, she doesn’t need to look to know who it is.
“Where am I?” feeling a pang of vulnerability, she pulls the sheet over her chest, which is thankfully still clothed by a shirt. At least she can check a few things off her list of things that didn’t happen.
“In my apartment. I let you sleep here,” he’s shuffling around and when he sits a glass on the table, she decides to look up at him. She’s surprised to see him without a shirt on and in a pair of pajama bottoms, but she tries to mask that up, “Water. I figured it’d help your hangover.”
She moves until her feet hit the ground, the sheets still cuddled up to her body, and she thanks him before drinking.
“Welcome,” he mumbles while glancing around the room not sure if he should sit next to her or not, but she sees how nervous he is and she pats the space next to her. He immediately sits and gives her a smile that she doesn’t return. He takes that as a bad sign.
The glass goes back to the table, “Explain to me how I ended up here.”
“You went to the Purple Skag last night and you got really drunk. That’s when Sasha called me and told me to come watch over you,” he takes note of the way she cringes at the mention of her sister. He didn’t think it’d be a good idea to tell her about the part where she basically begged for them to call him.
“Oh,” is all she could say and now she’s fidgeting with her hands, “Is there anything else? I’m afraid of the answer.”
He sighs, “Well, yeah, there’s more. You insulted me, a lot. More like calling me out for some things.”
That’s when her eyes are glued on him and she looks horrified.
“Maybe I should just stop there-” but her hand grasps his arm keeping him in his place and she doesn’t want to stop the conversation before she knows everything, “You told me, in your own way, that I wasn’t being a good friend. That I was spending too much time at work and I know I was. I never returned your calls or spent enough time with you and I’m sorry.”
This changes her expression all together. Her hand has softened its grip on him and her eyes seem more relaxed as she stares at him, “You have been distant lately, but I’ve also been overly sensitive. Things lately, they’ve been… weird, I guess.”
“Weird?” he remembers when she asks about someone else and wonders if that has anything to do with it. Part of him hoped it did, “ Does this have to with what we discussed?”
Her eyes have gone wider than they were before, “What did we discuss?”
“You brought up the thing about my someone else and I told you we’d discuss it when you were sober and,” he pauses and shrugs, “You’re sober.”
“What kind of answer is that anyway?” she’s mumbling now and Rhys has to think she’s slightly embarrassed, “I mean, someone could be anybody.”
“It’s not Sasha.”
She’s quick to snap at him, “Really? I’m supposed to believe that when you basically drool over her every time she’s near?”
“I-I don’t drool over her. She’s my friend. We’re friends.”
“I’m your friend, too, and the most I’ve heard from you lately is you telling me, ‘I’ll call you back as soon as I can,’ and then a click. What kind of friendship is that? I don’t call you for you to make excuses. I call you because I mi-”
Miss you. That’s what she was going to say. She missed him and she’s admitting it and he was too clueless to actually see it. He just wished she had said something before now, “Fiona, why didn’t you tell me?”
“When was there time? I guess I told Sasha, maybe August. I’m not sure what I said last night,” she rubs her eyes and he hoped she doesn’t cry again, “It’s not easy to admit that I care about you because saying it makes me feel uncomfortable and I don’t like feeling like that.”
“If… If it helps, I care about you, too,” he hoped it helped and maybe it does since the edges of her lips are curling up into a smile, “And, you know, I can’t believe you didn’t know my someone else was you.”
That’s when her eyes go wide and he can’t help but laugh.
“You’re a jerk, you know.”