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It was supposed to be a simple day—just a day running errands. Evelyn ran errands all the time. She ran errands with Paultin all the time, even.
Somehow offending a very rich person into siccing their personal guards on them—that was new. That was new, and Evelyn didn’t know if she had the authority to make arrests of foreign dignitaries, so she heeded Paultin’s advice, and ran. Currently the two of them were tearing like mad through the back alleys of Waterdeep, hoping to lose their pursuers, but it seemed they were persistent.
“We could just fight them,” Paultin said as they ran.
“We could,” Evelyn nodded, “but I promised Diath we wouldn’t get into trouble today.”
“What Diath doesn’t know won’t get us arrested,” Paultin said, and grabbed Evelyn’s arm, pulling her down a side alley. The alley was narrow, just small enough to possibly avoid detection, if they pressed to the very back of it. Paultin put himself between Evelyn and the opening of the alley, and he seemed to be doing some rapid mental calculations, because he turned around and stared down at her. Evelyn reached for her axe, but Paultin shook his head.
“I’ve got a better idea,” he said. “PDA makes people uncomfortable, right?”
“Um—I guess?” Evelyn frowned. “What does that have to do with us?
“Look,” Paultin panted, “we don’t have much time, the guards’ll pass by here any second—just—look, don’t punch me, okay?”
“What—” Evelyn squeaked as the rest of her sentence was entirely lost by Paultin firmly planting his lips on hers. She grabbed his shoulders for support, and he wrapped his arms around her, more or less shielding them in this corner from prying eyes—at least, that was Evelyn’s increasingly fragmented thought process as Paultin kept kissing her.
She heard the guards’ footfalls getting louder and nearer, heard them pause at the head of the alley, heard them talking to themselves, but for the life of her, Evelyn couldn’t understand what was being said as Paultin somehow pressed in closer, getting a better angle with his head and his hands and wow—wow. Wow. Evelyn had to wrap her arms around his neck to avoid squashing them awkwardly against her chest, which pretty much eliminated any space between them, and—okay. Okay. Wow.
After some amount of time—could have been seconds or hours, hard to tell, her head was spinning so much—Paultin broke the kiss, glancing over his shoulder.
“Okay,” he murmured, “I think they’re gone.”
“Oh,” Evelyn said, and took her arms back, tucking them behind her. “Of—of course.” Paultin let go of her and took two steps back, breathing oddly hard. Had he gotten hit? Evelyn scanned him, but couldn’t see any blood.
“They. Um. They might be back,” Paultin said.
“We should leave,” Evelyn said, but when Paultin remained still, staring at his feet, she didn’t move. “Paultin?”
He finally lifted his head, and to Evelyn’s surprise, his cheeks were red, but his eyes were focused, intense. He took two steps forward, then with trembling hands cupped her face.
“I think I can hear them heading back this way,” Paultin said, his voice reaching a husky decibel she’d never heard from him before. “More hiding time?”
“I—if you think that’s best,” Evelyn said, and for the second time in several minutes the rest of her sentence was stolen, much like the breath from her lungs, by Paultin’s kiss.
Evelyn had the wherewithal to float so Paultin didn’t have to hunch quite so far to reach her, but the rest of her thought process was entirely drowned in the unexpected wildfire coursing through her veins. It was like Paultin’s touch left sunbeams in its wake, tracing from her face down to her neck, then one hand settling in her hair while the other wrapped around her back, pressing him into her. She’d kissed people before. Heck, she’d kissed Paultin before. But there was nothing in her life that had been quite like this—like hunger, like adrenaline, somehow stronger than every time she’d faced down a bigger opponent. Part of her was terrified, and insistently screaming about how she needed to back off, but the rest of her was curling one hand in the front of Paultin’s shirt and wrapping the other in his hair as he started to nibble on her lip.
Evelyn knew she should stop. She knew that she and Paultin were just friends, and he had told her to stop thinking of him that way, and that he didn’t want her. She knew this. Somehow she knew this even as he swiped his tongue over where his teeth had just been on her lip, making her shiver. She just…didn’t know it enough to possibly want to interfere with anything Paultin was doing to her right now. It was like being drunk on pure fire.
“Might—might should stop,” Paultin murmured between kisses, and just like that they went from furiously making out (is that…is that really what had just happened?) to breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other, still wrapped around each other but not moving away. Evelyn wanted nothing more than to dive back in and maybe start planting kisses up and down his throat, but—well, he stopped. So she stopped. Simple.
“Sorry,” she said, doing her best to catch her breath, but with Paultin breathing in the same space and his thumb gently caressing her cheek, it was incredibly difficult. “That was—probably too much, right?”
Paultin didn’t reply, just breathed. Evelyn resolved to shut her mouth and do the same, taking her lead from him. By Lathander, she hoped she hadn’t just taken advantage of him, of this whole situation, but as soon as the thought entered her head, the angry, bitter part of her brain was instantly convinced that she had, and immediately Evelyn felt ashamed. Tears burned behind her eyes. And she called herself his friend, she thought viciously, she couldn’t even stop touching him—
“Hey,” Paultin murmured, brushing some of her hair back from her face. “Was that—was that okay? For you?”
Evelyn wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. The sound that came out of her was half of both, and she nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that was fine.”
“Okay,” Paultin said. “Sorry. It’s—it’s been. It’s been a while. For me.”
Oh, gods, Evelyn thought with sudden horror, what if—what if the last person he’d kissed…it made too much sense, it would be only right that his wife would’ve been the last. His dead wife. His dead wife that he of course still loved, and would always love, and what did she think she was doing? Who did she think she was? A very childish part of her wailed about how it wasn’t fair, but Evelyn shut that part down easily. Life wasn’t fair, no matter how much she wished it was. She took a deep breath and floated back, away from Paultin, putting her hands down by her sides.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and the bewilderment in Paultin’s face was a little too much right now—his lips were very pink, how hard had she been kissing him for that to happen? “I’ll—I’ll see you back home.” Before Paultin could say anything, before Evelyn could think better of it, she took off into the sky, hoping some rushing air would clear her head, hoping gaining some altitude would cool her down.
It was a very long time before she returned to the house.
…
Paultin collapsed against the wall of the alley, breathing hard. How was he still breathing this hard? Gods. Wow. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to smooth down some of the damage Evelyn had done to it, but—he couldn’t believe his own idiocy. Canon be damned, that was stupid of him even in what could be filler at best.
Paultin Seppa wasn’t sorry. Paultin Seppa did what he had to do, and hoped it worked out for the best.
Paultin Seppa was a moron.
Going back to the house didn’t hold much appeal. Facing people didn’t sound like something he wanted to do right now, not with the ghosts of Evelyn’s hands still burning against his skin. He touched his own mouth and half-expected to find scorch marks. He wasn’t kidding, it had been a long time, but even with the dry spell, he didn’t know if he’d ever kissed anyone like that. With…with…Sandra had been…easy. Not—Sandra hadn’t been easy, he meant it had been easy to be around her. It felt natural, with her. Just thinking about her—about her loss—he’d drained his wineskin before even realizing what he was doing, but no amount of wine could stop this thought train, it seemed. Well, no amount of wine he had on his person.
Evelyn wasn’t easy. He wasn’t sure if it was their collective baggage that made it so hard—him, a drunk and a widower, her, a lonely romantic with no self-worth—he felt like he hadn’t had to work nearly as hard for a happy marriage with Sandra. Not that it hadn’t been work at all, but with her, there wasn’t baggage, not like this. He supposed if it was switched, if he’d married Evelyn first and then saw her carcass strewn across their bedroom, he would have a hard time connecting with Sandra, but that wasn’t this reality. Maybe that’s why it was so freeing to just…forget the baggage, for a second. He needed a drink.
The nearest bar wasn’t far. He was known there, hadn’t yet gotten thrown out, and was supplied with two wine bottles and a table. Paultin uncorked one and drank half of it in a few gulps. It was horrible wine, but it would do the job. Cheap and available.
The thing is—the thing is, he shouldn’t have pulled that stunt, there was too much at stake to just make out with the woman he was so desperately in love with it made him sick. What was he even going to say to her when he saw her next? Lol, jk, that was fun but let’s pretend it never happened? What was he thinking? He wasn’t thinking, that was the problem. He never thought these things through. He never thought about her feelings. Hindsight’s a witch, was that the saying? Something like that. Paultin paused to burp, make sure it wasn’t actually vomit, and keep drinking. Sooner or later his idiot brain would shut up already.
It had been nice, though. It had been incredible. Just getting to touch somebody again made it half worth it. But if that’s all he was looking for—well. He wasn’t lacking for options. Just had to throw the name out and wait for the crowds to come singing his praises. But it wasn’t just about that. It was specifically about her, about having Evelyn in his arms like a miniature sun. Stupid as it sounded, she made him feel bright. Shiny. Wanted. But that was half the problem—right back to square one.
Before he had thought himself capable of looking at another person, let alone letting them in, he’d shut Evelyn down, and it seemed she had done her best to take it to heart. They didn’t talk about it. What was there to talk about? He knew she wanted him. He knew she’d been in love with him since the second she saw him and heard him play. It was a common reaction. Less common was the slow and careful way Paultin had examined his own heart and found her there, right alongside everyone else he’d ever loved and lost.
Maybe—maybe he’d started to think there was a chance. Once he had closure for Sandra—once her killers were in the ground—then maybe. Maybe. He hadn’t meant to screw it up like this. Doing something for the fun of it, fulfilling tropes, those were all well and good. Emotionally hurting people he loved…less okay, but still on-brand. Somehow this combo had crossed the line. When had he finished both bottles? Paultin signaled the bartender and was pleased when a third bottle joined the pile. Good. Good, good, good. Cool and good.
He was overthinking this. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal after all. Maybe she’d moved on. Todd was persistent. And…certain others he would refrain from mentioning for fear of inciting murderous rage. Maybe if he drank enough he would pass out and this would all blow over on its own. After all, not acknowledging the problem was the way to deal with stuff, right? Right. Did he have the gold for a room here? He half-heartedly patted his pockets, then pulled out a handful of…nope, copper, where was his gold? More patting turned up some silver, but no gold. Paultin sighed, paid for the drinks with the silver, and hauled himself up to stagger home. Maybe he could outrun his brain, leave it swimming in the bottles. Wouldn’t that be nice.
Somehow or another he made it back to the WaffleHaus—at the back door, which was fine. He slumped in the doorway for a power nap. Hopefully nobody would be coming through here. Hopefully. He dozed, hearing the sounds of Strix shrieking in the background (good shrieks, no danger) and kids laughing and chickens…being chickens. He should try and drag himself behind the bar, find a little more privacy. Paultin swore, and staggered upright to do just that. He had to stop and sway and lean against the building for a second while his vision swam, but it passed. Everything always passed.
Unfortunately he ran slap-bang into something as he was coming up to the front door, and he landed heavily on his butt, mumbling more swears to himself. Then he looked up, and. Well. Heck.
“Hey,” Paultin slurred at Evelyn, who was looking at him like…what was she looking at him like? Hard to tell. Needed to sleep. But she pulled him onto his feet, and supported his weight as they went through the front door, and Paultin leaned his head against hers and sighed.
“You’re perfect,” he mumbled. “Not, like—not like perfect, you know, but perfect.”
“What was that?” Evelyn asked, much too loud, and Paultin grumbled to himself as she dumped him on the ground behind the bar. Was she mad at him? Wouldn’t blame her. “Sleep well, Paultin.”
“Yeah,” Paultin grunted, and almost in the same breath was snoring.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d slept by the time he came to, groggy and hungover, but he felt like he wanted some milk, which was an interesting change. He hauled himself upright and saw that it was dark, so he’d slept for a long time. Paultin stretched, cracking his neck and his back, and shuffled to the kitchen.
Because the universe hated him and would never leave well enough alone, when Paultin entered the kitchen, Evelyn was sitting on the counter mid-sniffle, her face all puffy and eyes all swollen and oh noooo he was the worst when it came to stuff like this even when he wasn’t suffering under the weight of his colossal imbecility and copious amounts of cruddy alcohol.
“Oh,” Evelyn said, immediately turning her face and sniffing hard, “hi.”
“Hi,” Paultin said, and slouched to the icebox, pulling out the milk and drinking directly from the bottle. There we go. Nice and refreshing. He put it back in the icebox and checked the stove for food. No such luck, it seemed, no leftovers there. He puttered around the kitchen, trying desperately to ignore Evelyn’s sniffles and honking nose-blowing, but there was only so much space he could pretend to be exploring. They should probably talk about it. They should probably really set some things straight.
Paultin’s heart hammered in his chest, and his stomach roiled, and he both felt like throwing up and like snuggling Evelyn right up against his chest, but combining those two activities would be the second grossest thing he’d done to her today, so he settled for awkwardly patting the air around her shoulder and making his creaking way towards the door.
“I’m sorry,” Evelyn said, and Paultin planted his arms against the doorframe, hanging his head and sucking in air. Why did she do this to him. Why wouldn’t fate leave well enough alone. “For what happened. Earlier. I’m sorry.”
Paultin sagged in the doorway, then straightened his arms and shot back, using the momentum to turn around and stand up straight. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Paultin said, and Evelyn made the face she usually made when he said something she didn’t agree with. “No, stop that. You didn’t do anything. It was my idea. I take responsibility for what happened. You can stop making that face at me now.”
“What face?” Evelyn frowned. “I’m not making a face.”
“Yes, you are, you’re making that ‘I am a horrible person’ face and I hate it,” Paultin growled, planting himself opposite her against the counter. “Look, we—we do what we have to do, right? To make sure we get home to Simon.”
“I’m not sure that second part was to get home to Simon,” Evelyn said, and Paultin clenched his jaw. Another fatal mistake: bringing up their actual literal human son, whom they were raising together. Yet another complicated layer in this bean dip of agony and feels. “It shouldn’t have gone that far, I’m—”
“If you apologize one more time, I’m gonna lose it,” Paultin said, and crossed his arms over his chest. She was going to be the death of him, he thought darkly. “I’m not mad. If anything, you should be mad at me. It was my fault. I mean. It was awesome, and a great experience, ten out of ten would absolutely do again—” Was that true? It felt true. “—but I’m the idiot who had the idea in the first place. So you stop trying to take the blame for something that nobody needs to be blamed for. Except maybe me. Okay?”
Evelyn closed her mouth, and seemed to be struggling with something. Paultin let his words stand and let her think her thoughts. He wasn’t waiting for her, exactly, but if she had more to say, might as well get it out now.
“I also forgot to say thank you,” Evelyn said in a small voice, and Paultin blinked. That…wasn’t what he was expecting. “For saving us, I mean. That was some quick thinking.”
“Uh. Yeah. No problem.” Paultin unclenched his arms, trying to relax. “Listen, are we cool? I’m mainly worried about that. Are we okay?”
“Yeah,” Evelyn nodded, and a small smile crooked the corner of her mouth. “We’re cool.”
“Okay.” Paultin shoved his hands in his pockets. What was the appropriate parting gesture now? He settled for an awkward nod and shambled towards the door. Then he stopped, turned around, marched towards Evelyn, and hugged her. It was awkward. But after a moment or two, Evelyn hugged him back. There. That felt better. Paultin let the hug end naturally and then turned to make his exit. It didn’t quell the guilt in his stomach, but he did feel a little better.
Okay. Now to sleep some more, and definitely not relive that afternoon over and over in painstaking, glorious detail in his dreams.