6 Such Bliss

"Just how much did you drink last night?"

I raised my head from the bar's countertop to glare at Sofia but even doing that aggravated my headache so I returned to my position of resting on my folded arms.

"Not now, Sofia."

She huffed with a roll of her eyes and began to walk away. "Suit yourself. I'm just glad I didn't find vomit on the floors when I came in. Again. Get your shit together, old man."

I sighed with relief when she'd left me alone in my misery.

Everything hurt. My head, my eyes, my scratched up back and even my face from when the stranger smacked me. It had been a little too much to ask for a third round of sex after saying another man's name for the first two. It didn't help that when he'd asked me if I even remembered his name, I said the wrong one.

What made my hangover that much worse was the fact that I'd made the dumb mistake of drinking with Maria—again—after getting kicked out of the hotel room I paid for.

You're the scum of the earth, Diego.

The laughter I could hear from the combined tables near the door did not do much for either my headache or my overactive heart. Mostly because it was Marcellus sitting there with a bunch of women and men. Some locals, some tourists and a few adventurers.

They'd been coming into the inn in droves since our outing into town. Whenever the man was leaving to explore and draw the town, there were a few waiting outside the door for him.

There were even a few that boldly asked him out on dates, all of which got rejected in the kindest way someone could've gotten dumped.

"So how come you don't talk about where you're from, Lord Marcellus?" a girl, the baker's daughter, Isabella, said, her voice going lower than it usually was. I thought it was her attempt at being seen as attractive but if Marcellus thought eighteen-year-old Sofia was too young for him, sixteen-year-old Isabella was barking up the wrong tree.

I heard Marcellus laugh from my position, my head down and eyes closed.

"Maybe I prefer being your town's little mystery," the nobleman responded and I could've just imagine that rarely seen mischievous smile appearing on his god-like face.

"But surely you can tell us a little more about you, Lord Marcellus." Why's Mateus here? Doesn't he have work at the butcher's?

The question did garner enough interest in me to turn my head to the right to see the whole group, still resting on my arms. There were around nine people surrounding Marcellus who sat in the middle, looking relaxed in his white shirt and hands in the pockets of his black slacks.

The sunlight from the windows was bouncing off his skin in such an ethereal way that I'd almost forgotten about my headache.

"There is not a lot to say, I'm afraid," the man said his gaze landing on me, like he just knew that I was looking at him.

He gave me a wider smile, his eyes smiling with his lips as he did so and I swore to the gods, my heart was attempting to escape my body.

"Come on~!" another girl asked, a tourist. "Anything would be nice. I wanna learn about you."

I watched as she pressed closer to him, her chest peaking out of her tight dress. Any other day, I'd have cheered on any woman not shy about flirting with a man—confidence is always hot—but considering which man she was flirting with, I couldn't help but scowl.

"Mm something about me," he hummed to himself as he tilted his head to the side, thinking. "Oh! I love dogs."

"Lord Marcellus! I have a dog!" Mateus all but shot up in his seat.

"Oh? You must introduce us then, but I love big dogs. The bigger the better," Marcellus said and it might've just been my imagination but he kept glancing at me from time to time. "Having a big dog lay on top of you as you lay in bed. No better feeling."

I imagined Marcellus laid down on some silk sheets of a king sized bed. Shirtless and his coily hair sprayed out on a pillow with a massive, wolf-like dog, the color of night, resting its head on the man's defined chest.

I knew I needed some kind of mental healer when I started feeling jealousy towards the fictional dog.

"I should go find a big dog later," I heard one of the girls whisper and it made me chuckle to myself. I had been thinking the same thing and only realized how ridiculous it was after hearing someone say it out loud.

"Ah. Do excuse me for a bit." Marcellus got up and waded his way past the group of people, putting his hand on the small of the back of a man to get past him and said man looked like his knees nearly buckled. Yet Marcellus didn't even notice.

I was starting to realize the nobleman was completely oblivious about his effect on people. Either that, or he was too used to it.

My musings were interrupted by the fact that Marcellus was now standing in front of my view, blocking his table.

I glanced up to see the man smiling down at me with folded arms and his hip cocked to the side.

"Are you feeling any better, Diego?"

I groaned in response, making the taller man laugh lightly with a hand hovering over his mouth.

"Maybe you should take care when drinking and," Marcellus' eyes went to my neck that was covered in love bites, an actual bite mark still burning red, then my back which was slightly exposed and showcasing just some of the several scratches left by last night's stranger, "with your other activities."

I felt my cheeks burn slightly in a blush and tried glaring at Marcellus for finding my situation amusing but it sadly turned into a pout instead.

"Don't bully me. I'm suffering," I whined while closing my eyes to give them a break.

They flung back open when I felt the back of a cold hand on my sweaty forehead. He was touching me.

"You are quite warm," Marcellus muttered with his eyebrows knotted in mild worry. "I was going to ask if you would be interested in joining me this evening for a stroll but if you are unwell, I can always venture out on my own."

"I can come with you!"

"No, me! I actually live in this town!"

"I'm a mage! I can be of actual use to him!"

"I'll go," I said as the people at the tables continued to quarrel, my main focus being the man smiling ever so warmly at me. "And I'm not 'quite warm' my lord~, you're just always freezing."

Marcellus laughed, the kind of laugh he had that made it look like his eyes were going to close. After staring at him for the past few days when the man wasn't looking, I've come to pinpoint his genuine expressions. Not the fake ones that all nobles seem to have practiced since they could crawl. This was his real smile and he rarely used it with others.

The fact that I made him smile like that on occasion made me feel oddly proud of myself. Even a little honored.

I actively ignored the fact that he'd used that same smile for Sofia and Chef Maurice, not to mention several people in the town. I liked to feel special.

Gods above and below, I've actually lost my mind.

"Are you sure, Diego? You are not letting your kindness overrule your health, I hope."

Stop saying my name. I'm begging you.

I scoffed. "I'm not kind at all."

"He's really not," Sofia just had to interject as she rushed past with food for noisy table, yelling at them to shut up and eat.

"No," Marcellus insisted, his cool hand still on my forehead and helping relieve some of my headache. "You are quite kind, Diego."

I'm really not. I just can't say no to you, I thought to myself as we continued to stare at each other.

With his hand still on my forehead, he moved to sit on the barstool beside me. He used his free hand to rest his cheek and asked as he stroked my forehead lightly, "Does this help? You really are quite warm, so I figured my 'freezing' hands could be of some use."

I laughed lightly, closing my eyes. I was suddenly feeling sleepy. "Yeah. It does. Let me know when you want to go out."

"Of course. Since you insist, I shall not refuse."

Us sitting there with the noises of the inn in the background, Sofia yelling at some poor patron, and Marcellus stroking my forehead gently like I was made of glass…I'd never known such bliss. I was almost thankful to Maria for getting me so drunk and racking up my tab.