Chapter Text
“Y-Yes,” Gale stuttered, stepping aside. “Would you like to head into the guest room? I can show you-”
“I remember where it is.” Mystra’s voice was quiet, meek even. “Thank you.” She shifted past the men and with her arms folded across her chest, she walked towards the room.
Gale had never heard Mystra in this way before. It unsettled him. Not to mention, she had come to his door disheveled and bruised. What could have possibly happened that made her want to seek him out?
“You’re not letting her stay, are you?” Astarion was beside him, whispering. His eyes darted towards the now closed guest room door and back to Gale’s.
“Do you expect me to toss her out looking the way she did?” Gale asked.
Astarion lifted an eyebrow which was met with Gale’s own questioning brow. The barista sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before throwing his arms down.
“No, I suppose not, but who’s to say we can trust her? She’s done her fair share of trying to ruin your life.”
“Her face is bruised and she was at the door in her nightwear. Nothing about that screams nefarious and it would be unkind to send her back out in this weather.”
Deep down, Gale felt odd about allowing his former lover to occupy his home while his current partner was now living there. In other circumstances, Mystra would have received a few choice words and a slammed door in her face, but this night was different. Gale could hear the desperation in her question. He couldn’t allow her to go back to whatever situation she had escaped from.
He saw a deep V form between Astarion’s silver brows. It was clear his partner was much less fond of the idea.
“One wrong move and I toss her out,” Astarion said.
Gale took his hand and gave it a light squeeze.
“I’ll even help you carry her,” he replied, lifting the pale hand to his lips and kissing the knuckles.
“Hmph.” Astarion pulled his hand away and disappeared into the master bedroom, shutting the door a little louder and making Gale’s heart sink.
The author sighed and turned, staring at the two doors, deciding which he should enter first.
His knuckles rapped against the door and he waited for a reply but none came. He tried once again, putting his ear to the door and listening.
“Mystra? Are you alright?” He called.
There was a bit of shuffling before he could hear her clearing her throat. The door cracked open and she peeked through. Her hair fell over one eye as if to conceal her. She almost appeared like a skittish child.
“May I come in?”
Mystra stepped aside, opening the door for Gale to enter. Her arms folded in front of her and she stared at the floor.
“I’m violating the restraining order,” she said.
“I think we can forget about the for the time being.” His voice was gentle. He could tell if he made one wrong move she would crack. “Would you care to tell me what happened?”
Mystra rubbed at her arms, wrapping them tighter around her body. Gale moved towards the closet in the room and searched through it until he found a spare blanket. He went to her and wrapped it around her shoulders before guiding her to sit on the bed.
He sat beside her, leaving a wide berth of space between them but enough that she would feel comforted.
“Caelen…he…I didn’t mean to embarrass him in front of his friends,” Mystra began. She picked at her fingernails. “He became so angry with me.”
Deep, deep, deep within the depths of Gale’s soul lurked a piece of him that was calling this situation karma for the way Mystra had treated him, but the part disgusted him. He’d always thought the driver to be kind person, a bit dim witted but kind nonetheless. Now to see what wrath he could unleash on someone made Gale’s stomach turn.
“Have you spoken to the authorities? Do you want me to call them?”
“No, no,” Mystra stilled the author’s hand as it was already pulling his phone from his pocket. “I…I only want to get away. Maybe stay here for a few days if you don’t mind?”
Astarion was not going to be happy about this, but what other option did Gale have? He couldn’t toss her out into the streets in her condition.
“Of course,” he replied. “You can borrow my clothes or I’ll purchase you some items.”
“Thank you.” Mystra gave a small grin and then seemingly out of nowhere, she flung herself at Gale. Her arms wound around his neck and she sobbed into his shoulder. “Oh, Gale! It was horrible!”
Hesitantly, he brought his arms around her and rubbed slowly up and down her back. His head lifted and he was met with Astarion’s eyes looking back at him. Before he could say anything, Astarion was walking away. By the time he had calmed Mystra and excused himself, a half hour had passed. Astarion was gone and there was a sticky note stuck to the kitchen island.
Be back tomorrow.
I’ll text you when I’m settled at Jen and Karlach’s.
Gale placed the note back down and immediately pulled out his phone. He couldn’t wait. He needed to know he hadn’t messed up their relationship entirely.
Gale: Please let me know you’re alright. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you.
A reply came back within seconds.
Astarion: I’m fine. Just letting you handle things.
Gale: I’ll miss you in our bed. I love you.
Gale didn’t receive another text until an hour later with Astarion stating he was lying on Jen and Karlach’s couch and he would text Gale when he was on his way back in the morning.
The author paced around his home, fingers drumming on every surface they came into contact with. He told himself Astarion would return. He only needed to preoccupy his mind while he waited.
He lifted his wrist to check the time. It was only half past one. Maybe he could kill some time preparing lunch.
Gale pulled a pan and pot out. He filled the pot with water and set it to boil while he grabbed ingredients from his fridge. A simple garlic lemon sauce would have to do. He wasn’t in the mood for anything more elaborate.
As he was adding the angel hair pasta to the water, Mystra emerged from the guest room. She was wearing baggy sweatpants and a tee that was much too large for her slight frame. She must have rummaged though the old boxes of clothing he had stowed away in the closet. He supposed it was good he never got around to donating them.
She moved through the kitchen, eyeing Gale the entire time. Her arm brushed against his back as she opened a cabinet and pulled down two wine glasses.
She peered into the fridge, letting out a hum as she grabbed an open bottle of moscato. She poured half a glass for Gale and then emptied the rest into hers, filling it until it nearly spilled over.
“I think this is needed for both of us,” she said, offering the wine to him.
Gale accepted it while stirring at the sauce. He sipped at it and wrinkled his nose. This was a brand he wouldn't be purchasing again.
“So, he lives here?” Mystra was stepping closer to him. He noticed her glass was almost empty.
“He does,” Gale answered.
“That was rather…fast. Don’t you think?”
Gale placed the wooden spoon down gently.
“Tread lightly, Mystra. I’m being accommodating to you by allowing you to stay in our home. I ask that you watch what you say about him.”
Mystra held her hands up as if to surrender.
“I mean no offense.”
“Good.”
Water boiled over onto the stove and Gale cursed as he scrambled for the handles of the pot. He sat it aside and went back to stirring lemon into the sauce. Mystra breezed by him. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, floral notes drifting towards Gale. Once upon a time, he would have done anything to be surrounded by that scent for hours, even days, but now he could only think of how much he missed bergamot.
Mystra lifted the pot and began to dump the pasta into a colander. She sighed and heavily sat the pot on the edge of the sink.
“I thought I could lift this, but it seems my wrist isn’t up for the challenge. Would you mind?” She asked, pleading with round, wet eyes.
“Not at all.” The author turned off the flame to under the pan and shifted over. He lifted the pot and drained the pasta with ease. He could feel Mystra’s eyes trained on him. Her hand came down on his bare forearm.
“Still working out?”
“Other than running, not any more than usual,” he answered, using the drained pasta as an excuse to pull away.
Gale honestly couldn’t tell if she had asked it as a form of a compliment or criticism. During their relationship, she had always pestered him with maintaining his health. Always pushing him further and further during workouts and forcing gritty protein shakes into his hand. He was young and impressionable and she was older and wiser. He didn’t want to question her. He believed she knew better than him.
He dumped the pasta into the pan and gave it an appraising look before sprinkling fresh parsley over it. The meal was plated and Gale placed Mystra’s plate across from his on the island. Mystra grimaced but said nothing, taking a seat on the barstool. Her fork prodded at the pasta before she took a small bite. The fork was sat back down immediately after.
Gale didn’t think too hard about her refusal to eat. He wanted to believe it was because of the traumatic experience she had endured, but he had a feeling that wasn’t the reason. Mystra had always been his harshest critic when it came to his culinary skills. Where Astarion thought each dish was perfectly crafted, Mystra picked apart every detail until he was pushing away his own plate in distaste.
That was no longer the case though. He had a partner that uplifted him and encouraged him.
He shoved a hefty bite into his mouth, slurping up a garlicky noodle, and nodding in approval. He would store the leftovers in the fridge with a sappy note for Astarion.
~
Hours passed by as Gale holed himself away again in his office. He decided on leaving Mystra to her own devices. The two times that he had left the room, he noticed the guest room door shut and all was quiet. He assumed she was catching up on sleep and chose not to disturb her.
Every few minutes, he flipped his phone over and hoped a text notification would be waiting. Instead, he was met with nothing but the silly photo Astarion had taken of himself crossing his eyes and changed to Gale’s background while he was showering.
He chuckled at the image, but then his smile fell. His thumb drifted over the screen, wishing he could caress Astarion’s cheek instead of the cold glass beneath his touch.
Gale put his phone back down and ran his hands down his face before letting his head fall to the desk.
It was shaping up to be a agonizingly long night for the author.
__________________________________
“Astarion.”
The barista batted away the hands that shook his body.
“Not now, Gale,” he grumbled.
“Not Gale and you promised Cal you would cover for him today.”
Astarion’s eyes cracked open to Jen’s annoyed face hovering over him. She ripped the blanket from his body and tossed it aside. A shiver ran over him as his underwear clad body was exposed to the drafty apartment.
“I’m up, you wretch!”
Astarion pushed up from the couch and groaned. His body ached from sleeping in one position on the dilapidated couch. He was regretting telling his friends they could toss out his old mattress when he had moved.
He had completely forgotten to set an alarm for the morning. After speaking with Cal about taking on the morning shift, he had indulged in a bottle of wine and a couple of shots while he retold what exactly had happened at Gale’s…their home.
Jen warned him to be reasonable and not throw his relationship away over Gale’s bleeding heart while Karlach was prepared to storm the gates and drag Mystra out screaming.
Astarion bent forward, elbows on his knees as his fingers tangled into his hair. His head was pounding, he was sure he had bags under his eyes, and his stomach violently twisted, not from the wine and whiskey but from worry about his and Gale’s future.
“Are you sure you want to go in?” Jen asked, her hand resting on his shoulder. “I don’t mind taking over for you.”
Astarion patted her hand. “No, enjoy your day off. It’ll afford me time to think things over and allow Gale to suffer a bit more.”
Jen’s hand came up to swat at the tousled silver curls.
“Put the man out of his misery, Astarion.”
Astarion waved his friend off and stood, snatching his clothes from where he discarded them onto the floor the night before and slumping to the bathroom.
He tossed cold water onto his face and scrubbed Jen’s facial wash into his pores until they were screaming for air. With a few twists of his fingers, his hair was at least presentable for the day even though it desperately needed a wash.
Astarion shrugged on his joggers and wrinkled long sleeve tee that bore images of gingerbread men fighting one another with the words “Ninjabread Men” at the bottom. Gale had laughed so hard he snorted when he saw it and had to purchase one for Astarion and himself. It wasn’t normally what he would wear to the coffee shop, but it would have to do.
The barista sighed, taking one last look into the mirror before gathering his things to head to work.
~
Astarion’s pushed up his sleeves in frustration as he purged the steam wand on the espresso machine a third time. Someone had failed to clean it properly the previous day and it had clogged up in the middle of a lunch rush, leaving customers waiting in frustration or taking their business elsewhere.
The wand was reattached, seeming to function as it should once again, and Astarion set to fulfilling the stack of orders Alfira was steadily adding to as she rang up patrons.
An hour later, the chaos had died down. The noise level was back to its usual steady buzz of quiet chatter and there were no longer angry customers shooting him death glares as he worked. Astarion sucked in a deep breath and slowly released it. He crouched down below the counter as a way to hide away for a moment. He had already taken his break so he couldn’t escape to the back room.
“Is there an…A-stair-ion here?”
The barista’s eyebrows knitted together and he stood. A young man holding a paper bag was standing at the counter, asking Alfira. Astarion drew closer and held a hand up.
“It’s Astarion,” he corrected.
“Whatever, dude. I just deliver the stuff,” the young man said. He dropped the bag on the counter and walked away.
“But I didn’t order…anything…” Astarion tried to say but the delivery man was already pushing out the door.
Astarion grabbed the brown bag and unrolled the top. Reaching in, he pulled out its contents. There was a something bundled in parchment paper and after unwrapping it, he found deli turkey on tomato basil bread with leafy greens, sliced red onion, a slice of Swiss cheese and drizzle of spicy brown mustard. Under that was a cup of French onion soup and a cup delicately placed in a cardboard holder that was filled with mango green tea.
Astarion’s heart was already fluttering as he spun the bag around to find the receipt. It had his name in bold letters at the top but near the bottom, in minuscule print, the notes section confirmed his suspicions.
Deliver to The Coffee You Know.
Hopefully lunch will provide the
“pick me up” that you certainly need.
I eagerly await your return.
-Gale
Even Gale had managed to make a delivery note sound so…well, Gale-like.
He did appreciate the free lunch though. He had given in and texted Gale, letting him know he would be arriving home later than expected after picking up a shift. He wanted Gale to suffer with his decision surrounding Mystra but he wasn’t completely cold-hearted.
As he bit into the sandwich, he cursed at how delicious it tasted. He supposed he could go a little lighter on his partner after such a kind gesture.
~
Astarion sent a text to Gale letting him know he was on his way home, but he received no response. He entered the house to find it quiet except for the spraying of water coming from the dishwasher.
He began to walk towards the bedroom, hoping to find Gale in there, but he stopped as he heard someone giggling.
He eased his bag onto the floor and tiptoed over to the guest room, where the door was cracked and light filtered through.
“I’ll be right back here in no time.”
Mystra.
It appeared she was speaking on the phone with someone, unless she had finally lost all her marbles, which Astarion wouldn’t doubt.
“Of course, we’ll still see each other, Cae. I only need a bit of funding from Gale.” She groaned and Astarion could practically hear the eye roll as she spoke. “Are you doubting me? I really don’t appreciate when you doubt me, dear.”
Astarion sneered. The foul bitch was trying to weasel her way back in to take advantage of Gale. He knew she was up to something, but Gale had been too blind to see it.
“Now I just need to convince him to break up with that horrid boyfriend of his.”
Oh fuck no, you skank.
Astarion pushed open the door and watched as Mystra’s eyes widened with fright. Her lip quivered as she started to sob.
“What should I do, mum? I-I’m scared of what will-”
Astarion stormed over to Mystra and grabbed her phone. He glanced at the screen to see the name Caelen and a picture of a shirtless, blonde man. He held it up to his ear.
“Huh? Baby, what are you-”
“She’s occupied, darling,” Astarion said before dropping the phone and crushing his heal into the screen, feeling the satisfied crack beneath his foot.
“Excuse you! That’s my property you damaged. I’ll be expected payment for a new one,” Mystra told him. The crocodile tears had dried and she stood, folding her arms across her chest.
Astarion noticed where the tears had run down her face, there were streaks trailing long. The bruises on her face weren’t quite as visible as they had been when she first arrived. Astarion had received his fair share of bruises in his lifetime and they never healed that rapidly, usually becoming darker before fading to yellow over time, and they certainly didn’t smudge.
“Buy you a new phone?” Astarion asked, nearing her. “Why don’t you buy yourself one with the money you planned on swiping from Gale? Darling, he may be kind, but he’s not stupid.”
A wicked grin stretched across Mystra’s Botox-ladened face. Her eyes pierced into Astarion and she fluttered her false lashes at him.
“Stupid enough to let me sleep with him.”
The wind was knocked from Astarion’s lungs. The room began to spin and his hand reached for a wall to steady himself.
“Gale wouldn’t,” he rasped.
“Wouldn’t he? I’m wearing his clothes and he’s in the shower as we speak. We have history. He’ll always love me one way or another,” Mystra said.
Astarion’s eyes ran over her. She wore a Blackstaff Academy shirt and large sweats. His heart cracked inside his chest, but instead of showing his pain, he forced it down and replaced it with an uncaring grin.
“Well, I guess you’ve won then. Congratulations.” Astarion gave a nod and turned, walking out of the room.
Gale exited the master bedroom just as Astarion was grabbing his bag from the floor. His hair was still wet and he was dressed in jeans and a sweater. He pushed his glasses up his nose and beamed as he saw Astarion.
“You’re home! How was the lunch I had delivered? I know you prefer tomato soup, but it was unavail-”
Astarion held up a hand, stopping Gale in his tracks. It hurt him to see Gale’s face fall in disappointment, but he had been hurt far worse.
“I’m leaving,” he said. “I’ll be back for my things in a few days.”
Gale’s jaw tensed and he sputtered, “I-I don’t understand. H-Have I wronged you in some way?”
“It’s one thing to sleep with her. It’s another to lie so boldly to my face.”
“What? Astarion, I-…Surely, you know that isn’t-”
Astarion refused to hear the rest. He cut Gale off by slinging his bag over his shoulder.
“Goodbye, Gale.” Astarion made his way towards the front door. He paused and without looking back, he said, “By the way, the bruises are fake. It’s makeup.”
He stepped out and shut the door behind him before finally letting go, crying out into the December afternoon.