Page 49 of House of Blood and Roses: Vol. 1
"Tea is good."
He pours me a cup and hands it over, before going back to get himself a drink. His hand hovers next to the jug of wine, but he doesn't pick it up, opting for some tea as well.
"There's some fruit and cheese if you want it," he says, gesturing to the tray as he comes to sit beside me.
"Thank you." I set my teacup to the side. "So, the wine?" I prompt, thinking that this might be a good time to bring it back up when he's just decided not to drink some.
He sighs. "I never really wanted to drink it in the first place," he admits. "But after I first arrived at court and saw the Feast, I couldn't help it. If I drink enough of it, the sharp edges of the world fade away a bit and I don't have to think about it as much." He leans his head back against the wall, a pained expression on his face.
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah, me too. I don't want to be this person."
"Is that why you didn't have any wine tonight?"
"No." He looks at me, an earnest expression on his face. "I didn't drink anything tonight because I realised that I'd have good memories of tonight, not bad ones. But even so, it's hard." His gaze strays over to the wine jug.
My heart aches for him. I know the things he's trying to run from, the images that have already haunted some of my dreams. Maybe if I hadn't had someone as thoughtful as he is helping me adjust to life as a vampire, I'd have turned to wine myself.
Feeling bold, I reach out and put my hand over his, wishing I'd taken off my gloves first.
"I don't want to drink the wine, Beatrice," he whispers. "But I also really want to drink the wine."
"How can I help?"
He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "I don't know. Maybe by telling me I can't drink it."
"I can't do that. Only you can decide if you're going to drink it or not."
"I'm worried about what it's going to mean for the rest of my life," he admits. "If I choose not to drink the wine today, then I have to choose not to drink it tomorrow. There are a lot of tomorrows in forever."
I rub my thumb over the back of his hand, wishing neither of us was wearing gloves so I could offer him more comfort. "There are." And I can understand how that's a daunting thing for him.
"I'm not going to drink it," he whispers. "It's time for me to stop trying to dull my life."
I nod. "How can I help?"
"Just...do what you're doing. Being able to meet with you and talk about history has been helpful. And it's been much easier to choose to drink tea over wine when I'm with company."
I let out a soft chuckle. "Then I'll be your study partner for as long as I possibly can. Though now I've seen this room, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to go back to sitting at the table."
"That almost sounds like you want to be alone with me, Beatrice."
"We're already alone," I point out. "And are we really any more in public when we're sat at a table no one else ever visits?" I ask.
"Fair point. But for what it's worth, I don't mind that you're in my private space."
A warm feeling fills me in response to his words. "I'm glad you shared it with me."
From his expression, I think he knows I'm not just talking about the room. It can't have been easy for him to share the rest of it with me either.
A yawn overtakes me, and I cover my mouth with my free hand.
"Am I boring you?" he jokes.
"Definitely not. I had a nightmare last night," I admit. "I've had a few since I got here. You were right about that."
He raises an eyebrow. "Something else I said the day we met?"
