Trowa's POV in this part.
Hungry Heart Part 5
The bartender put the third glass of beer down in front of me with a faint air of disapproval. I wondered why. Most bartenders wanted you to drink.
Of course, I was drinking by myself- maybe that was the problem. Wasn't that one of the bad signs? It was easy enough during the day to keep busy- but at night- when everyone seemed to split up into couples and go wandering on the beach... then it was a lot more difficult. The first few nights I had done okay, but I had watched all the pay per view movies the hotel offered, and my options were now limited. I went for a walk and found myself at this bar.
The beer was half gone. A few more and I should be able to make my way back to my hotel room and fall asleep. Only five days of vacation left. I'd make it...
"Want another one or is the buzz good enough?" The bartender asked. That voice again- when he'd first spoken to me, I'd thought... I looked up at him. The hair was blond - but too long, his eyes dark not clear blue, his voice just a shade too deep... but the shape of his face seemed...
No. Damn it. I knew better. There was no way he'd be working in a place like this- looking like someone who had just jumped out of a surfer movie. How many times had I thought I'd seen him since he left? Too many to count... I saw the damn man everywhere... and nowhere.
I realized the bartender was waiting for me to say something. "Another one please," I said, pushing the empty mug back across the bar.
"By yourself?" He asked as he filled the glass.
"Unfortunately."
He smiled suddenly, his teeth flashing white against the tan of his skin. "Ah, it won't be for long." He put the beer mug in front of me and turned to help someone else.
I looked after him, wondering what the hell he meant by that one.
Part of me noted the easy grace, the way he moved... so very like Quatre...
But- his eyes had been dark, his voice deeper. His hair was longer than anyone would've been able to grow in a few months, and the planes of his face were more defined- then again it had been years since I had actually seen Quatre in person... nearly as long since we'd spoken on the phone...
.... I was being stupid. What were the odds that Quatre would be behind the bar in a place like this? Slim to none.
Maybe I'd go back to my hotel room and check my email. Maybe there was a message there- or I could call and check my ones at home. Maybe there was something waiting....
Right- and what were the odds on that?
The bartender was back again, frowning slightly at my now-empty glass. "We close in 20 minutes- so it's last call," he said. "What can I get for you?"
"One more- that should be enough to make me sleep."
"As long as it's sleep and not pass out," he said with a faint smile, picking up my glass.
"I'll save that for tomorrow night."
The smile vanished as he refilled the glass. "Not enjoying your vacation?"
"Not really," I sighed. "I never should've come by myself."
He set the now full glass down in front of me. "Did you leave someone at home?"
"No," I took a sip from the glass. "They left me."
That smile flashed again and I wondered why. "Their loss," he said and headed back to the other end of the bar.
I drank slowly, watched as other people filed out of the bar, watched the bartender as he worked... maybe it was the beer... but damn, the more I looked at him the more he looked like Quatre...
Wishful thinking, it had to be. If it was he surely would've said something to me!
Maybe...
This was stupid. I downed the last of my beer, made sure I had left a tip and slid off the stool. It was harder making it to the door than I expected, and once outside I leaned against the wall, covering my eyes with my hands.
So it had been a while since I'd had more than a single drink in a sitting. I shouldn't be feeling this dizzy...
I dropped my hands and eyed the beach. It was only a few steps away- maybe I could just go down there and lay on the sand for a while. Just until the beer wore off...
"Well, you didn't get far," a warm voice said beside my elbow.
I turned too fast and nearly fell over. Only the bartender's grip on my elbow stopped my fall.
"Sorry," he apologized, those dark eyes of his meeting mine.
If only they had been blue...
"It's okay."
He smiled. "We saw how you were walking and Malia- the waitress- told me to follow you. Can I offer you a ride home?"
"Uh... sure." It would be easier to get back to the hotel that way. He smiled wider and tugged on my arm.
"This way." He pulled me around the corner where a small scooter was parked. "Sorry, no car," he said and I just shrugged.
"It's okay."
He got on and scooted forward a bit so I could sit behind him. "Hang on to me," he said as he turned the key.
I slipped my arms around his waist. How many times had I held Quatre like this? He even felt like Quatre- lean and warm in my arms...
No. No there had to be lots of guys that felt like that. I hadn't made a habit of hugging people, so I wouldn't know...
Once we started I got so dizzy that I had to close my eyes and just hang on tight to the guy. My hotel wasn't that far away...
Wait... had I even told him where it was...?
The ground suddenly tilted a little and the scooter stopped. "Here we are," said the bartender, and I opened my eyes.
This wasn't a hotel. This was a small house set back in a lot of greenery.
"Where... where's the hotel?"
He smiled and got off the scooter, heading for the front door. "I didn't say I was taking you to a hotel, I said I was taking you home. So that's where we are- my home."
"But... why?" I got off the bike and stumbled after him. "Why bring me here?"
Some part of me knew it wasn't the brightest of moves, following some strange guy into his house, but...
The more he spoke, the more he looked at me... the more familiar he was...
Was I delusional? Had I drunk too much?
The door closed behind me. The room was dark. This wasn't good. I blinked, trying to get my eyes to focus, and suddenly, his arms were around my waist, his cheek touching mine. "You looked so lonely in the bar. Are you?" We were moving backwards...
"Yes." Something touched the back of my legs and I fell into something soft. He fell with me, his weight pinning me to the bed.
"Why?"
"I... lost someone. Someone I loved."
Lips touched mine.
Oh... this was familiar...except for the faint rasp of his facial hair... but the way his lips touched mine, the way his tongue coaxed my lips apart... his taste...
I reached up, pulled him tighter against me.
Please let this be real... please...
"I'm sorry," he said, his lips moving away from mine, tracing the line of my jaw. "I'm sorry you lost someone you loved. But- you found someone who loves you."
TBC...
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