29. Fiella
Iwas fluffing my hair in the mirror, admiring the blue tone, when I heard a knock on the front door. My heart immediately jumped to my throat. He’s here!
“Come in! I’m just finishing getting ready!” I shouted as I tugged my most flattering sweater over my head. This sweater hugged my frame and made me look curvier than I was, and it matched my favorite boots perfectly.
The door opened slowly, and Redd tentatively stepped inside. “Hey, Fiella,” he called out, shutting the door behind him and looking around. He didn’t come any further than the entryway– he looked like he was afraid to take a single step. He clutched a slightly withered bouquet of flowers in his hands, his grip a bit too tight on the delicate stems.
“You can come all the way in, I swear nothing in here will bite. Except me.” I tossed a wink in his direction and then remembered that I was going to apply my blood-infused lip gloss. I scurried back to my washroom.
He paused for a moment, and then I heard him take a step. Then two. He began looking around. “Nice place,” he commented. “It looks exactly how I expected it to.”
I chose not to be offended by that comment. “Thanks! I did everything myself. Well, most of it. I’m almost ready, hang on.”
I sprayed myself with my favorite fig and berry perfume, gave my hair one final fluff in the mirror, tucked the front strand behind my ear, and wandered out to the main area.
I caught a good look at Redd for the first time, my eyes dragging from his feet to the forget-me-nots in his grasp, all the way to his face. Damn. I had to discreetly wipe my chin to make sure I wasn’t drooling. Redd looked incredible. The vampire was always infuriatingly handsome, but today, he looked even better.
His hair was tamed with product and his stubble was perfectly tidied. He was wearing trousers and clean boots, and a sweater that looked so soft that I wanted to rub my face on it.
I realized I was staring and shook myself out of it, only to realize that he was also staring at me. Thank the gods. I quirked my eyebrow at him and planted my hand on my hip.
“Ready, stranger? Or would you like to ogle me some more?”
He rolled his eyes at my use of his old nickname. “Don’t make me regret this. Where should I put these?” He held the flowers out in my direction.
My heart squeezed at the gesture. Forget-me-nots are my favorite. I delicately pulled the bouquet from his grasp, ignoring the dusting of dirt coating some of the petals. I scampered to the kitchen to find a vase for them.
“Thank you! I can’t believe you got me flowers! How’d you know to choose these ones?”
“I was working at Lunette’s today, you know, and I might have mentioned something about seeing you later,” he said a little bashfully.
I snorted. “Yep, that makes sense. How did you know where I live, by the way? Are you stalking me?”
“I only had to ask one person. This town is small, everyone knows where you live. Don’t flatter yourself.” He nudged me with his shoulder. I nudged him back twice as hard. Before he could get me back, I scampered ahead of him.
“Where to?” I asked.
“Well, there aren’t many options, considering there are only two places in town that serve dinner and I don’t feel like cooking today. How does Ginger’s Pub sound? Some drinks, some food, some folk-watching?”
I smiled broadly, fangs poking my bottom lip. “Ginger’s is perfect. Her stew is better than the diner’s anyways, but don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“Your secrets are safe with me.”
Redd cleared his throat. “You look incredible, by the way. You are always a beautiful woman, but you look especially lovely in that sweater.”
I beamed at him, my cheeks burning hot. “Thank you. I was just thinking that you look rather ravishing yourself.”
We hiked to Ginger’s in companionable silence. I had my hands shoved into my cloak pockets because it was still freezing and covered in snow, but I made sure to accidentally (on purpose) brush shoulders with Redd a few times.
He even grasped my elbow to help me through some of the especially deep snow patches, even though I was plenty tall enough to trek through them myself.
We passed an old mailbox on the way–the one that had started my journey with my penpal. I could almost swear that it was looking better than it had when I tripped over it a few weeks ago–the mortar less crumbled and the bricks more intact. But that didn’t make any sense. Nobody maintained those things anymore.
It was now completely cleared of snow.
Redd caught me looking at the mailbox and asked, “Those things really are everywhere, huh? I wonder why nobody has knocked them down yet.” He examined the stone structure with a curious scrutiny.
I shrugged, but I was secretly panicked at the thought of the mailboxes being taken down. I’d lose my penpal! “I guess it just feels right to leave them there. They’re a fixture, you know? They’ve been there since the Old Gods roamed the realms. There would be no reason to take them down now.”
“Yeah, maybe…” He murmured.
We slipped into Ginger’s and chose a table near the back. It felt weird sitting here instead of my usual stool in the corner. The pub was especially crowded this evening. It was crowded every evening, but the snow must’ve been driving more people to drink than usual.
Understandable. Cheers to that.
Ginger flitted over to us and did a double take before she composed herself. “Fiella! Redd! Oh, how lovely to see you both. And together! Well, it’s nice to see you anyways, but you know what I mean.” She shook her head. “What can I get you guys?”
“Hi Ginger, I’ll have today’s cider with a shot of the best animal blood that’s in the icebox right now, and whatever stew you’ve got boiling in the back today. And he’ll have the same. Thanks!”
Redd tried to object but Ginger was already at the next table.
“Cider, huh? I guess that’s… fine. I’m more of an ale guy myself.”
“I knew you would be! I don’t know how you drink that stuff. It tastes like piss.” I shivered.
He quirked an eyebrow at me. “Now I don’t know about you, but I don’t typically drink piss, so I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I sighed in exasperation. “Good one. Very funny.”
He chuckled under his breath and glanced around. “I hope this stew is as good as you say it is. I’ve become a fan of the diner’s dinners, that’s where I’ve been eating most nights.”
“Oh, trust me, it’ll be the best thing you’ve ever tasted,” I practically swooned. I caught a whiff of the stew on the way in. It smelled like today would be a fish grain tomato stew. Delicious.
Ginger returned and plopped the goblets and blood shots in front of us. I chose to down half of the shot and then pour the rest onto my goblet. Redd shrugged his shoulders and did the same. It seemed that he was resigned to following my lead today. I liked it.
“Okay, now ditch any preconceived ideas about ciders you had before this moment, and just try it.” I was bouncing in excitement for him to try his first sip.
He glanced around nervously, seemed to realize that time wouldn’t stop if he indulged in a sweet drink instead of a pissy one, and let out a quiet sigh.
He lifted the goblet to his (admittedly very nice) lips and took a tentative sip. He hesitated, seemed to think for a moment, and then took another sip. He set the goblet down with a thunk and looked me in the eye.
“Fiella Elmwick. You were right and I was wrong. This is the second most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.” He had a mischievous glint in his eye.
I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt. “See! I told you so!” I took a sip of my own cider. Lavender blueberry. Yep, this flavor could win over any folk. “You said the second most delicious, what’s been the most delicious? I’m curious.” Tandor caught my eye across the pub and waved, a bright smile lighting up his face. I waved back.
Redd hadn’t responded so I glanced back in his direction. He was staring at me pointedly, a slight flush to his cheeks. It took me a moment to understand what he was insinuating. I damn near choked on my cider. The thought sent a bolt of heat through me. I crossed my legs and tried not to squirm too obviously.
“Oh. Oh. Okay. Well,” I didn’t know what to say. I could feel the heat in my neck and my cheeks, I was sure I was as red as a tomato.
Redd laughed loudly, flashing his fangs. He so rarely laughed like that; it took my breath away. “You should see your face right now. I wish I could capture it in a painting.” He took another swallow of cider, his throat working. “Sorry if that’s rude, I’m just being honest. You are a delicacy.” His tongue flicked out and caught a drip of cider before it could fall onto his perpetually stubbled chin.
I cleared my throat and willed the blood to leave my cheeks. “It’s not rude at all, you just caught me by surprise.” I took a gulp of my cider to calm myself. “I’m flattered, really. That’s high praise.”
“It is a very close second. This stuff is incredible.”
I laughed and saw Ginger approaching from the corner of my eye. “Understandable. Just wait until you try the stew.”
“Sweet talking my customers for me again, Fiella?” Ginger asked with a wink as she set our bowls in front of us. “I ought to pay you for that.”
The heavenly scent of tomatoes and herbs hit my nose and I had to suppress a groan. “Keep feeding me these gods-blessed meals and I’ll shout your praises from the rooftops. Thanks, Ginger.”
“Enjoy! Shout if you need anything. I’ll bring you another round of drinks after I finish making this lap.” She twirled away with impressive speed, her hoofed feet clacking on the tiled floor.
The stew today was served with a few slices of warm sourdough bread. I ripped my bread to bits and tossed them into my bowl. Redd watched me with a pained expression on his face. “You’re really going to mutilate a perfectly good slice of sourdough like that? Blasphemy.”
“Don’t knock it til you try it! You should know by now, I’m always right.” I winked at him, blew on my spoonful to cool it down, and took a massive bite. The groan slipped out this time, I couldn’t help it.
Redd cleared his throat and took a bite of his own stew. His eyes rolled into the back of his head for a moment before he seemed to come back to himself.
“I think I just had a religious experience,” he said, immediately shoveling another spoonful into his mouth.
“Better than sex, right?” I joked.
“Now I don’t know if I could go that far,” he laughed, “but it’s pretty gods damned close.”