A Place to Stay (Eros/Michael)

[Michael Blackwood-Hardt]

No matter how hard Michael tried to push the thoughts from his mind, memories flooded in the second he saw the candy shop. He had talked about his wedding night with Eros here. It took him a few moments hovering outside before he finally managed to get up the courage to go inside the building. He still felt horrible, still looked horrible, but at least this wasn't home. "Eros?" he called, then looked around the shop.

[Eros d'Avonderre]

Michael had caught Eros at one of the rare times he was sitting at the counter. Eros had been watching, actually, as Michael stood outside the broad windows like a young brat debating how much trouble he'd be in for spending his last knuts on chocolate. He'd been quite close to rousing himself from his seat to fetch the young man.

"Beside you, Michael," he drawled, apparently announcing his presence. "You look dreadful. Your father hasn't returned from the dead, has he?" It was a tease, and one he fully expected Michael to miss with his obvious level of distraction. "Are you quite all right?" he asked, the humor gone from his voice with the question.

[Michael Blackwood-Hardt]

Michael would probably never have seen Eros if Eros hadn't spoken. He absently shook his head and looked over at Eros. "Can I stay here for a couple of days?" he asked, not quite ready to tell this man, who had been his best man, what had happened. Maybe Eros wouldn't care and would just tell him to go upstairs and pass out.

[Eros d'Avonderre]

Michael wasn't nearly so lucky. "Of course," Eros said, flippancy pushed aside for concern. He pushed to his feet, abandoning his chair for now to come around the end of the counter. "What has happened?" he asked, looking Michael over. If the clothes weren't hint enough, if the request to sleep somewhere other than his own home wasn't enough, the bloodshot eyes and chapped lips were. "Are you suffering a lovers' spat?" He couldn't imagine it would last days, but looking at Michael, it seemed that it already had.

[Michael Blackwood-Hardt]

Michael didn't answer immediately, instead opting to give Eros a dead glare before he dropped his eyes and shook his head, mumbling I wish. They had always gotten over fights quickly, except for the thing about the potions. He took a deep breath and rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand. "He left." It wasn't any easier to say it this time.

[Eros d'Avonderre]

Eros looked at Michael for some moments, his emotions shielded, but obvious all the same. Michael's pet had left? "Do tell me he's gone on holiday," Eros said, though it was clearly not the case. He paused, then turned to the front door, drawing out his wand to flick the sign to closed. The snot-nosed brats could spend their knuts at the jewellery shop for the evening. "Come upstairs, Michael. This is no place to talk of such things."

[Michael Blackwood-Hardt]

Michael slid his hand back into his pocket and didn't respond to Eros. He knew he was going to be quizzed, he hadn't expected to get out of explaining everything, not seriously, anyway. Knowing didn't make it seem any more appealing. It would be great if they could just...he didn't even know, but anything would be better than reliving it yet again.

[Eros d'Avonderre]

Eros's apartment was comfortable enough, considering its size, but for now, his appreciation of it was set aside. "Orenda," he called, and the house-elf appeared with a light pop, wrapped in a crisp white-and-gold tea towel. "A bottle of pinot noir, Orenda, and see that the guest room is adequately prepared for Michael." The elf nodded, then disappeared, reappearing a moment later with a bottle of red wine and two goblets on a tray. "Sit, Michael," Eros said, gesturing to one of the couches.

[Michael Blackwood-Hardt]

Michael sat, but he was far from comfortable. He hadn't missed the piano, but even that would be painful, so he sat with his back to it. "I guess I can't get away with just hiding in the other room, can I?" he asked, raising a tired eyebrow at Eros. His shoes ended up slipped off and he brought his feet up in front of him on the couch.

[Eros d'Avonderre]

"I'll allow you to escape soon enough," Eros said, "after I have determined a course of action against your Dare." He took a seat nearby and poured two glasses, pausing again to assess Michael before offering one. "You don't appear to have slept," he observed. "Have you eaten?" He doubted it, and thought that perhaps he would summon Orenda for a good cheese and some crackers as well.

[Michael Blackwood-Hardt]

Michael mumbled a low thank you when he took his glass and when he said I slept a little it didn't come out much louder. As for eating, he might have, but if he did he honestly didn't remember it. He almost wanted to tell Eros that he didn't need to do anything to Dare, but he was more hung up on the fact that Eros had said your Dare than any actual meaning behind the rest of the sentence.

[Eros d'Avonderre]

Eros did summon Orenda, who indeed brought a plate of cheese and crackers, and bits of fruit to go with their wine. He was silent for some moments after she had left, debating, before he spoke. "I will not coerce you into telling me every sordid detail," he said, "but as a friend, and one who has invested and risked himself, I do wish to know whatever you feel it necessary for me to know. At the moment, I must admit I am not feeling kindly disposed toward the boy, and though I am not, as a rule, a vengeful man, in this case, the urge to be so is strong." Ah, but Michael looked lost, and perhaps all of this was lost on him. "Do tell me, Michael, what you would have me do."

[Michael Blackwood-Hardt]

Michael shook his head and took a drink of the wine. "He just showed up, said he was sleeping in the castle. Said he was leaving me for this girl, Lalita." It wasn't any easier to say this time, so he kept it to that. If Eros wanted more, he would have to ask. "I don't want to think about him." That was mostly the reason he had so readily accepted Markise telling him to sleep somewhere else.

[Eros d'Avonderre]

Eros didn't know the boy well at all, but just having seen him with Michael, it sounded impossible. The two had been more sickeningly in love than anyone he'd ever seen before, though by all accounts, Emilian and his little prinzessin came close. He wanted more information, but would respect Michael's wishes, and didn't press for more. "Eat something, and you may rest as long as you wish," he said at last.

[Michael Blackwood-Hardt]

Michael didn't want to eat. He would much rather just finish off this glass. Still, he took a few pieces off of the tray to at least attempt to eat. "I talked to Markise," he said, "He's going to take care of Elouai, and he's sending an owl to Dru to take care of the animals." At least it was something to say, rather than sitting in misery and reliving it over and over.