Upon nearing the sign it read "Forestside Pub." I pulled into a small parking lot and parked right in front of the building. The structure, if that's what you wanted to call it, was a bit run down. Moss covered the entire roof, what used to be red paint was half chipped off from the siding, and to top it all off, a shot gun blast of peppered holes was in the door. Any normal person would have most likely high tailed it out the area at the sight, but I was one, immortal and two, badly in need of some good Ole fashion "medication." I pulled myself out of the car as soon she was in park and rushed for the shotgun blasted door. Once inside I picked a seat at the bar that was tucked in the corner of the room. The place was thankfully empty, but who in their right mind would come here anyway?
The bartender gracefully walked over toward me, "Hello, how can I help you today?"
"I'd like your smoothest whiskey served neat please," I replied.
"All right sure, we have a honey whiskey that I find to go down really well. Does that sound okay?"
I raised my hand and gave the 'OK' sign.
My legs shook on the bottom rung of the stool. My whole body was now reacting to this loss, not just my head and chest. I tried taking a few deep breaths to calm down. The bartender came back a moment later with the drink. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but are you okay?" His voice held a concerned tone.
"Should be soon," I replied and downed the drink. The warmth that went down my throat and filled my stomach was at the very least comforting. I tried taking a deep breath again, at least this time I started to feel some level of anxiety wear off.
I felt a pair of hands cup one of mine. "Hey," a voice cool as water spoke, "Can you look at me?"
I did as the voice asked. A pair of deep green eyes stared back at me and my breath held at their stunning color. I soon realized that the man before me was entirely breath taking. He had a narrow, olive toned face with high cheek bones, below that he had a well managed, short cut beard. The chocolate hair on his head seemed to have once been styled to stand up was starting to to fall on his forehead. I could feel my heart start to cool down even more. Why am I calming down looking at him? Yes he's pretty but, this is a bit weird even for myself. I finally broke eye contact with the man and shook my head. He released my hand seeing I calmed down a little. "I'm so sorry," I said softly to the man behind the counter.
He smiled, "Don't worry, I've seen my fair share of people having a panic attack."
"A panic attack?" Me? How could I possibly get one of those? I'm a creator god, I should not have mental instability issues.
"Yeah, never had one before?" He casually asked.
"Um no, never," I answered
"Hm okay, that's good. Was there something that triggered it?" His voice was both inquisitive and concerned.
"I lost someone very important to me," I blurted out. I tensed after saying it. Why am I am talking so carefree to this stranger?
"I'm so sorry for your loss. And don't worry about holding things back, it's good to let things out. So don't be afraid to talk to me," he paused momentarily before adding, "Besides we'll probably never meet again anyway."
I looked into his eyes, they felt so warm and trusting. But what was I going to tell him? About how much it hurts because of the not only emotional but physical attachment I had? That she had been my companion for the past 3000 years and the guilt I felt for causing her pain to keep living an endless loop? And why not since I'm at it, explain that I'm a fucking god, but no one has ever known except for her.
I took my gaze away from his kind eyes, "There isn't really much I can say."
"And that's okay," he replied. "How about another drink?"
"Keep 'em coming," I smiled for the first time since arriving.
I was finally able to take notice of the bar. Compared to the exterior of the building, it wasn't bad. The flooring as made up of old wide hardwood, the walls were freshly painted red and there were rustic beams running across the ceiling. It was your typical 1800s homestead home and it was quite a comfortable place to be in. It was after about an hour and half and several drinks more, I finally loosened up.
"Now, what is a good looking guy like yourself, doing at some hole in a wall like this?" My words were slurred as I spoke.
He gave a short laugh and scratched his head, "Well this is my home town and I guess when I decided to retire from my four years of service, this was the only place I felt I at home."
Now it was my turn to laugh, "The redneck paradise of Connecticut really is its own kind of special place, isn't it? And you call it home, huh?"
"Yeah, I do call it home," he gave a sideways smile, "I missed it for sure."
I smiled thinking of the area and why I chose this quiet corner. A quiet, peaceful place for Njeri to rekindle her connection to him. I sighed at the thought. "Yeah, it is a nice place."
"Uh, let me check," the bartender pulled a phone from his back pocket. "Oof, it's ten after midnight and I have to wake up early tomorrow - or today - ah whatever."
He scrambled off trying to quickly tidy the bar. I decided to tease him, "You missed a spot."
He glanced over at me before sarcastically answering, "Thanks." He then hurried back to cleaning.
I looked over at his attire. He wore a dark pair of jeans and a black top that tucked was in, a brown leather belt held everything in place. Under the top I could see that he was in very good shape. It looked like he never missed upper body day with his large arms and chest.
He looked over in the midst of his cleaning seeing that I was staring at him. He chuckled, "So, you like what you see?"
I snapped and fake coughed, "No, not that like that." I could feel my face turning red.
He started toward me, when he reached my end of the bar he cupped my face with his hand. The warmth seeping from it was so inviting I leaned into.
"Would you want to spend the night with me?" He asked forwardly.
Huh?
I snapped away from. "I... I need to go." I got out of the stool and instantly fell to the hardwood flooring.
"Are you okay?" His voice sounded panicked. "I'm so sorry. I have an app on my phone that does cab services, I'll have them bring you home."
"I... am... fine," I slurred. I grabbed on to the stool and began to hoist myself up. My head was spinning so much. Why was it that I never realized how drunk I was until I got up?
"You are in no condition to drive, please stay a couple minutes, a cab is on its way," he begged.
"You.. can't.. tell me.. what to do," I stumbled my way to the door and opened it, "'Cause I... am God!" With that I slammed the door behind me. That is where my memory ceased of that night.
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