Chapter 16 [Gabriel] From Prague to Vienna
Having dinner in the dining carriage of The Adventurer is turning out to be one of Gabriel’s favorite parts of the day.
The somewhat formal, cozy restaurant gives off the classic elegance you’d expect from an establishment such as this and the way James seems to settle into the seats more easily with each passing day they come here is an added bonus.
Tonight’s menu is a mixture of Czech delicacies as main courses and Austrian desserts.
“Would you care for some champagne, gentleman?”
“Not for me, thank you.” James smiles kindly. The waiter that just appeared at the table nods in understanding. Gabriel declines as well and is just about to turn back to James to ask him to go on with his story when he’s interrupted by an inelegant push against the booth they’re in.
To his horror, it’s Riley that sinks into the empty seat at the table across from theirs.
Without as much as a greeting he gestures to the waiter to fill up the two empty flutes on the table.
Paul appears in a more subdued manner, sending the waiter an apologetic look as he settles down in his own seat.
Across from Gabriel, James has fallen silent. The happy gleam fading from his eyes, his gaze firmly locked on the tablecloth instead of on Gabriel as they were when they enjoyed their appetizers earlier. Gabriel’s not a big fan of the tense line of his shoulders either.
Without thinking, he reaches out to James, caressing his trembling fingers with his own.
For a moment, he wonders if he’s crossing a line.
The next, he remembers the farce they’re putting on and that touching would absolutely be a part of a regular date night.
Not that he needs an excuse to want to comfort James, he’s just happy with the cover if he needs it.
At the touch, James’ fingers uncoil and the tremble settles.
The big, deep breath that Gabriel sees him take eases some of the tension from his tight shoulders.
Tactile, he notices. He files the information away for safe keeping.
It fits nicely with the words of affirmation that he already knows is one of James’ love languages.
“Go on,” Gabriel says while he picks up his glass of water, “tell me more about Rothenburg.” He’s not pleased with the fact that he missed most of the city, but he’ll happily listen to James’ stories about it.
His anxiety might’ve acted up a bit, but he knows his friend did enjoy roaming the little town for however long he was able to.
The futile glances he shoots to his right are a clear indicator that James isn’t comfortable enough to openly share whatever is on his mind.
Gabriel can’t exactly blame him. The coziness of the restaurant is one of the things that draws him here.
It’s also one of the bigger downfalls, since the bigger booths mean that there aren’t as many people occupying the space.
With these particular two next to them, he figures it can’t be easy for James.
“We should do our engagement-” Gabriel can’t stand Riley’s smug look while he talks. The smirk on his lips as he twists his ring around his finger in that obnoxious way someone only would to brag and the way his eyes are full of glee, Gabriel’s already done with it.
He squeezes James’ hand twice more, trying to get him to make eye contact. As soon as he has it, he makes sure he keeps it and says, “Did you make sure to make reservations for brunch with my mum? In the new year?”
With the way the man on the other side of the aisle tenses, Gabriel knows he’s struck a nerve.
James might not have given all the personal details about the inner workings of their relationship, he does know that James hadn’t been able to connect with his in-laws.
A failing Paul often used to degrade James.
Paul came from high society, like James.
Paul thrived in it. James drowned. Paul had everyone in the palm of his hand at the end of their first joined dinner.
James often joked about the fool he made of himself that night.
He’d never been able to rectify that first impression he made that night.
Some others might’ve been able to live with it, but Paul clearly hadn’t.
So Gabriel knows where to prod and dig where it hurts.
No matter the fact that it’s clearly a fabrication and he’ll in no way introduce James to his parents.
Not out of embarrassment, but out of protection.
Gabriel knows like no other what his mother is capable of.
He’ll make sure to keep James from that for however long he’s able to.
“Hmm,” James hums, nodding along slowly. “I did, actually. Got us a seat at La Chapelle. She mentioned wanting to try it.” There’s a lot left unsaid in the lingering stare they share.
Gabriel’s lips tick upward. “She’ll enjoy that. I’ll make sure to tell her.”
He’s enjoying the growing tension to his left a lot.
It’s quite obvious that if Paul grips his napkin any tighter he might actually rip it.
Gabriel has to take a sip from his glass to hide his satisfied smirk.
If the twinkle in James’ eyes is anything to go by, he made the right choice.
The reluctant pettiness James displays is a pleasant surprise.
Gabriel’s can’t find it in him to feel any remorse.
When dinner is served, time seems to fly by.
It’s almost easy to forget about the people sitting next to them when James, little by little, emerges from his shell and starts recounting his adventures.
Little hiccups, mostly due to scoffs or soft-spoken remarks, are easily resolved with a gentle touch and encouraging eye contact.
They end the night happily chatting as they walk back to their cabin.
Just before he’s about to close the door to their room, his phone buzzes with an incoming call.
Figures, Gabriel scoffs to himself, as he glances at the screen.
Speak of the devil and she’ll come running, and all that.
The illuminated ‘Mother’ taunting him in its timing. His heart hammers in his chest.
“Sorry,” he manages to mutter to James, vaguely gesturing toward the hallway. “I gotta take this.”
It’s not before he’s made sure that the door’s properly closed and he’s alone in the hallway that he swipes across his phone to accept the call. Dread’s already pooling at the base of his spine. “Good evening, mother.”
“Gabriel!” His mother’s shrill voice sends goosebumps across his forearms. “Why did I just get word that you declined our invitations?”
He sighs. “Because I’m on holiday. I put that on my RSVPs.”
“That silly road trip thing? Darling, that’s not an excuse for not being here.” It’s clear that she thinks the whole thing is nothing but a waste of time.
He clicks his tongue, already done with the conversation. “I joined a friend. He needed a companion for the trip.”
His mother sighs, the sound exaggerated and loud. “Well, come home. Your father and I need you here for the celebrations.”
“No, mother. I told you.” He bites his lip, preparing himself for the inevitable fight that’s to come. “I told you I’m done.”
The woman on the other side of the line makes a frustrated noise. “Is this still about-”
“Yes, it’s about that,” Gabriel snaps, glancing around the hallway. “You tried to marry me off.” Because he also likes boys. They tried to get him to sign an arranged marital contract, all in the name of reputation and doing what’s right.
“We’re sorry. We realize now that it wasn’t the right thing to do.”
“Oh, really? Well good for you,” comes his sarcastic reply. He’s sure that the accompanying eyeroll is audible. “I’m still not going to be at your parties. I’m enjoying my time away from the city.”
“But, see, we invited the Carlsons and their daughter-”
“I don’t know why I even try anymore. We’re done, mother. Please lose this number.” The righteous anger brewing underneath his ribcage is on the verge of boiling over. “Goodbye.”
The creaking of the phone in his tight grip is almost enough to drown out the numbness that’s setting in. He thought, naively so, that if he gave it time things might work out. It’s not like he doesn’t love his parents.
It’s just that they couldn’t deal with an artistic, queer son.
One who’d rather live in a dingy flat, from paycheck to paycheck, and not benefit from the trust fund set in place.
Someone who wants to narrate his own life instead of following in the footsteps of his father and grandfather as the head of the family company.
He forces himself to breathe, to remember where he is and that he should go back to the cabin. He’s safe, no one can tell him what to do or who to be. The knowledge of James in the room, waiting for him, is what gets his legs moving from where they seem to be glued to the carpet.
What a fool he was, hoping for the fiftieth time that things could be different. One final heaving breath, a liberating exhale, and he slides open the door to the room.
He finds James in his armchair, a blanket across his shoulders, with his legs pulled up in the seat and his e-reader safely grasped between his fingers.
His eyes stray from the screen to Gabriel, who kicks off his shoes next to the door and goes to gather up his sleep clothes, in desperate need of a shower.
James’ brown eyes are filled with worry when their gazes meet. “Everything okay?”
“Just Mrs. Gilbert, about the plants. She moved the pots from the balcony into the living room.” Technically he’s not lying.
Because Helen had contacted him to tell him about the plants, but she texted earlier on in the day to warn him.
With everything going on, the last thing he wants is to burden James with the messed-up dynamic of his family.
“Oh, good! I wanted to ask her about that, saw that there’s a cold front passing over and didn’t want them to freeze,” James admits, almost shy with it. It’s such a small thing to worry about Gabriel’s plants while they’re on this trip.
“She says they’re all good.”
James nods a little, clearly satisfied with the answer, and turns back to his book.
Gabriel takes that as his cue to head to the shower, to give himself the opportunity to settle his thoughts and lose a bit of the tension that’s coiled into his spine during the short conversation out in the hallway.