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Unnamed short story #1

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Zith's Avatar Zith
Level 38 : Artisan Princess
66

Written by Zith (GardeniaWITHLuv).

Do not attempt to recreate, redistribute, or repost the following content without my consent.

Do not plagiarize my content.

This is a work of fiction. None of this story's contents is real.
Any similarity to a person (living or deceased), place, building, event, or other fictional work, is coincidental.

TW: Alcohol, drunkenness.

A/N: I rarely write in the first person seeing as it always makes the protagonist seem kinda pretentious and it falls flat usually but uh I felt like it was important to help convey Lavender’s emotions and also introduce him as a character of mine somewhat.
I hope you enjoy my work.

---



I walked the frigid streets at midnight, making my way to the bar once more as rain dropped onto my messy black hair.

Whenever the sheer thought of Yumiko struck my head like lightning, I didn't know what to do.

It had been months, though it felt like it had been years. I missed her greatly. I missed her love, and felt a need for her affection as if it were vital to my survival like the oxygen I breathed.

I attempted to distract myself a plethora of times; I got into knitting, I got a job as a nurse-- I even got into playing guitar again.

For reasons unbeknownst to me, it all reminded me of her. Suddenly, the scarves I took hours to craft were a gift for when she returned. Working at the hospital, I realized my scrubs were her favourite colour: baby blue. I was beyond help, playing her favourite songs on my guitar.

I entered the bar with an exaggerated grin printed on my face.

Thankfully, I was a semi-regular, so there was no demand for me to give my ID to the security that stood against the wall.

It was awfully silent, though it was a weekday so I wasn't surprised in the slightest.


Under the crimson lights, I seated myself on a wooden stool. There were tables, of course-- but there was no point sitting there unless there was someone with me.

There weren't any other patrons besides men in suits occupying the tables that night, probably having been there hours after their 9 to 5 job.

I was the only person sitting at the bar counter.

I deadpanned, boring at the posters that covered the wall to accompany the array of alcohol set on the shelf.

I let out a groan, nostalgic from my missing lover once more as I rested my head on the dark oak wood of the counter.


The bartender working that night, Parker, sighed upon seeing me. "Again, Lavender?"

I glanced at the brown-haired, tattooed man before me, his aged face forming a stern expression. "It's been two weeks since I was last here, dude. Relax." I lifted my head up, my yellow eyes meeting his, which were green.

"The usual, Lav?"
"Don't call me that... and yes."

He poured vodka into a glass and mixed it with pineapple juice, handing it over to me when he was done.
“When are you gonna pay off your tab?” He inquired, crossing his arms.
“When will you quit nagging me about it?” I sighed. “I’ll pay it off when I get my next paycheck, alright?”

He didn’t utter another word, he simply nodded before going off to clean empty tables.


I gently sipped my vodka, drinking the tension off of my brain.
It never mattered how much I drank. Miraculously, even if I blacked out, she was on my mind one way or another.

I was given the advice that I should’ve moved on; that I should’ve gone to therapy, or found someone new, but… I knew Yumiko, and I had an inexplicable feeling that she would return.
I would never confess to such a thing, however.

When the glass of vodka became multiple, I found myself drunk again.

‘How long have I been here?’ I thought to myself, but I couldn’t answer-- too tipsy to even estimate.
Once more, I laid my head on the counter, jaded. I had shut my eyes, eager to rest.


Suddenly, Parker spoke, pulling me out of my slow descent into a deep slumber. “Yo, you goin’ home, Lavender? We’re closing in 30 minutes.”
I let out a yawn before speaking, trying not to slur my words. “I-I have no reason not to, I guess.”

Just before the bar closed for the evening, I found myself standing outside again in the pouring rain.
The employees weren’t too keen on the idea of helping me get home, coming to the conclusion that I was too much of a hassle for any of them.

To my dismay, the downpour was heavier than when I arrived.
Being the fool I was, I hadn’t brought my umbrella.


I had only sobered up a little bit before I was stumbling out on the sidewalk, making my way to my apartment once more.
The streets were somewhat desolate-- again, I hadn’t begun to comprehend how late it truly was.


I was trying my hardest not to think about how my life was falling apart, piece by piece.
I had work in the morning, but I was staying up all night to drink and sulk over my lost lover like some teenager not yet over their former love interest.



Still feeling pathetic, I couldn’t help but hear the ginger footsteps stepping among the pitter-patter of the raindrops behind me.

I merely ignored it out of negligence for my own safety-- I was too inebriated to care. I hadn’t even bothered to look towards the source.

Despite the rain, the clouds had a light glow from the full moon… the moon I grew to adore in my childhood. I always loved the night the most.

In place of yearning for Yumiko, I abruptly grew a longing to be a child once more; to sneak out onto the roof of my mother’s home and stare out at the night sky with my twin.

I hadn’t seen my brother in a while, nor my mother, for that matter.
I hadn’t seen a lot of people in a long time.
I was unsure when it began. but I was isolating myself after Yumiko.

Pushing my lament aside and tugging myself out of my thoughts, I had reached the door of my apartment.


“Hey!” A voice greeted from behind me.

The voice was familiar, but I couldn’t quite comprehend where I’d heard it from.

At that point in time, I was too intoxicated and soporific to comprehend much.

“Hi.” I responded monotonously, not looking back at them as I fumbled with my keys.

“It’s been a while.”
“Has it, now?”

I entered my home as soon as I’d gotten the oak door to open. To my surprise, I could hear the soft footsteps as they followed me.
I could sense by their demeanor that they weren’t there to cause harm of any capacity, so I didn’t pay them much mind.

In retrospect, I could've been in serious danger in that dazed and vulnerable state of mind; I will be eternally grateful that I continued to live after that night.

I kicked my shoes off, to which they did the same.

“Are you on something?” They questioned.
“No.” I uttered, stumbling to my room.

They didn’t follow me in.
I could still see their shadow as they stood just outside of my bedroom.
I didn’t turn any of the lights on, finding it fruitless as I was about to drift off into a deep slumber.

I sat on my side of the messy queen-sized bed my late lover and I shared, yawning. “Why are you here, anyways?”

“Lavender, when did you get so cold? I’m here to sleep.”

Out of the blue, I recognized the voice.
My eyes widened as butterflies made their way into my stomach like I was a high schooler speaking to their crush.

With that realization, I was woken up.

I didn’t expect this to happen-- not when I was drunk at 3 AM!

“Yumiko?!” I couldn’t help but exclaim.

“Did you forget my voice?” She crossed her arms, striding into the room with the spunk I admired.

“Of course not… I’m just-- I’m just--” I stuttered, struggling to find the words. Truth be told, I was still processing the fact that she was even alive. “I’m drunk, Yumi.”

Yumiko went to the other side of the bed, pulling the covers over her small frame. “Okay, well… we’ll talk about this in the morning when you’re sober.”

“I-I have work.” I said before shortly blushing with embarrassment as I quickly became self-aware that I was slurring my words, as well as stuttering.

“After work.”

I got under the covers, laying my head down on my pillow. “You’re alive? Everyone thought you were dead!”

She rested her head onto her pillow with gentle poise. That was my Yumiko, nothing short of spunky and simultaneously graceful-- well, most of the time. “Do I look dead to you?”

“Not at all...” I trailed off before I unceremoniously kissed her forehead.

“You smell like pineapple.” She remarked.

“I know. I’m just happy you’re here...” I admitted.
“Good night.”

“Good night, Lavender.”
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