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    Katya Dee
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Specter's Gamble - 22. Chapter 22

 

He went into some tavern; he didn’t even notice the name of it. He ordered a drink, and after it arrived, he just sat there, staring at it blindly. He sat in that tavern until almost one in the morning, his drink untouched, his gaze empty. Finally, at one in the morning, the waitress tapped him on the shoulder.

“We are closing, hun,” she said, and Rayhe slightly jerked as if she just woke him up. He looked at her with a small frown, as if trying to figure out what she just said. “We are closing,” she repeated patiently.

Gabriel blinked several times.

“Right...” he muttered finally and got up.

“Your drink, hun,” the waitress said after glancing at his glass. Rayhe looked at her quizzically. “Aren’t you gonna finish it? It looks like you barely touched it...”

“No,” Gabriel muttered and carefully put several bills on the table.

The waitress smiled and swiftly put the money into her apron pocket.

“Thanks, hun,” she called when Rayhe stumbled towards the front door. He just nodded without saying anything or looking back.

 

...He walked home. Well, to Desmond’s apartment – that was his home now. (“Desmond, Desmond, Desmond...”) He gritted his teeth.

He walked slowly, so it took him almost an hour to finally get to the apartment. He fiddled with the door lock for a minute, trying to fit the key into the keyhole in the complete darkness. Finally, he succeeded and the key smoothly turned in the lock. “I need to change that light bulb,” he thought absent-mindedly while walking inside and kicking off his shoes. He was so tense right now that his muscles ached.

He went into the kitchen, opened the window, and lit a cigarette.

“Did he buy it?” a quiet voice asked behind his back, and Rayhe slowly turned around, a relieved smile stretching his mouth. He flicked his cigarette out of the window.

“Yeah,” he said in a low voice. “He bought it.”

“Good,” Desmond muttered when Rayhe pulled him closer and buried his face in his hair.

©Katya Dee; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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