Alastair woke a little stiffer and more groggy than he had the previous days. Not surprising given how he’d spent his night. After he’d left the girls he hadn't gone straight home and instead found himself walking right by his rented room until he reached the far end of town where he looked back at the village. A few lights shined on the hill like fireflies and he wondered which one was Sinine’s a smile forming at the thought of her name. 

He wasn’t sure why it did or where the warmth that now smoldered in his chest had come from. It started the moment he’d taken her hand and hadn’t stopped burning since. It seemed to flare each time she was near or whenever he thought of her for too long, and it was raging now as his mind couldn’t seem to drift away.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t met a pretty girl before, and he’d had his share of romances throughout his travels. Trists with maids or adventurers passing through, even a royal once who was acting out in rebellion to her father. There’d never been anything like this though. He and sinine had scarcely met yet she was on his mind and in his heart in a completely new way.

The next hour or so were spent wandering the streets of the village, his path random and without purpose . He walked until the physical exhaustion overtook him though his mind continued to race as he returned to his room.

It was a small thing above an old shop with nothing more than a bed and small desk in the corner. After cleaning up in the closet-sized washroom he laid in that bed, his dark hair still wet as he stared at the knots in the ceiling. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep but even as he did it didn’t slow his thoughts. She was still there in his dreams, so when he woke the next morning he smiled despite the aches and heaviness in his eyes.  

After dressing he made his way downstairs, slipping his room payment under the door of the closed shop before making his way toward the inn, the sun still below the horizon. He’d hoped to arrive before the owner and correct his mistake with the wine before there would be an issue made of it. Those hopes were dashed when he rounded the corner to find the storeroom door already open and a full delivery cart waiting. With a sigh Alastair made himself known and prepared for the tirade he knew was coming. 

When it did it was swift and boisterous, the short rotund man reciting a list of expletives and threats as his face became as red as the coming sunrise. Alastair accepted the scolding with a nonchalant shrug, too tired to play along. This only made the man even angrier and soon came a threat of termination. 

“So I guess you’ll be unloading it then?” He replied, nodding to the cart fully with heavy bags of grain and crates of vegetables. 

As if by magic the owner changed his tune and mumbled a bit as he looked at the cart then at the wine. “Well I suppose accidents happen, you do a good job and I’ll let you keep yours. How about that?” He said, suddenly quite altruistic about the situation.

Alastair nodded in agreement and that was that, the owner leaving the man to his mundane task. After unloading the cart outside so as no to hold up the driver Alastair began the tedious work of moving the boxes of wine into the cellar. 

While most businesses had large doors to the outside for such things the only way into the cellar was through the inn behind the bar. This meant Alastair had to squeeze past the working maids as he made his many, many trips. Despite the slow going he had cleared out the wine shortly after sunrise and then went to work moving the new shipment into the created space. He had just about finished by midmorning and took a seat on a pile of grain for a quick break. 

The heat of the day was starting to set in making the small room stuffy. He undid a few of the higher buttons on his vest as he leaned back to rest his eyes for a moment. 

The busywork had been a slight distraction from his thoughts about Sinine but as he sat back they began to creep back in. He smiled  remembering their meeting from the day before, the thought putting him in a bit of a wistful mood. Eyes still closed he reached into a pocket on his vest removing a small book he kept there.

He didn’t make it a habit to read at work but there were times he needed an escape no matter how minor and he was feeling the need now. Flipping to a random page he opened his eyes and began to read. It was a love poem sweet, exaggerated and just what he needed.