Wendy was sitting in a bar that sat just at the edge of the city beside the stone wall. She had asked why it was so close to the outside and was told that if anyone were in such a rut to get drunk alone, then they deserved to be the first eaten by trolls. A haughty teenager said this to her, so she didn't really give a shit.
The bar itself was more like a tavern, on the inside. It was lit by candlelight, and many balls of light flowed around the fires. Upon closer inspection, Wendy discovered that these glowing balls were actually florescent moths, drawn to the flame to further illuminate the tavern. The modern walls and door Wendy noted when she first appeared did not prepare her for the rustic comfort and atmosphere of the indoors. Even the walls of the inside were wooden logs stacked on top of each other. Upon touch, she wasn't surprised that they were fake, but Wendy gave credit where credit was due.
Wendy wished she had worn more than just a bra under her sweater, though. It was too warm in here to keep the sweater on, so she removed it in the bathroom and simply closed her flannel. Her appearance and lax demeanor had caught the attention of many a young suitor, but she had no eyes for them.
Wendy was enjoying herself, despite the heat. Since that morning, the red haired woman had found solace in the comforting bubbles of draft beer. Of course, she made sure to use moderation with her drinking. Just one glass every time her thoughts strayed. By three o'clock, she was nursing her eighth mug.
"I'm Wendy Corduroy," Wendy said to herself. She took a large gulp of her beer in place of finishing her mantra. She exhaled after she swallowed, staring with lazy, blurred eyes at her half empty pint. The table rattled, and she looked from her beloved alcohol to the shaggy bearded man with a tan coat who had invited himself to her table.
"Well hello, Wendy Cordu—"
"One," Wendy said, cutting the man off before he could begin his attempt at seduction. Her voice was slightly slurred, but far from unrecognizable. "I'm not into dudes. Two, I came here to escape from something and would like to be alone. Three, I'm the daughter of a lumberjack. You keep talking to me, I'll consider it harassment. Now I'm new here, so I don't exactly know everything about this place, but I assume there's a big ass wall surrounding us for a reason. If you don't want me to drag you outside and trap you at the top of the first tree I see, I suggest you leave me the fuck alone."
"Whoa," the man said with a half hearted chuckle, raising his hands in defense. "I'll leave you alone, but you don't have to be such a bitch about it."
The man moved to leave the table, but Wendy's voice brought him back.
"Wait," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I'm sorry."
"Apology accepted," the man said, leaning back in his seat. "You're upset, and alcohol does make people mean when they're upset."
"Yeah, I've really gotta stop drinking." Obviously following her own advice, Wendy finished off her drink and set it to the side of the table. A waitress was quick in collecting the glass and hurried to the bar to follow Wendy's request to keep them coming. "Just as soon as they stop coming cool and refreshing."
"Mind if I buy your next drink, then?"
"One." Wendy said again, holding up a finger.
"I know, "not into dudes." I just thought a stranger could help a lady with her self hate."
"I don't hate myself," Wendy said, though she couldn't tell if that was true or not. "How about you tell me your name, stranger?"
"You can just call me the Keeper of the Bell. That's what everyone else does." The Keeper waved his hand for the waitress when she brought Wendy's beer so as to order his own mug.
"Alright then, Mister Keeper of the Bell." Wendy extended her hand to the man, who took it and shook. "Thanks for the surprisingly pleasant company."
"No one should drink alone, especially when they don't hate themselves."
"Haha." Wendy laughed sarcastically, taking her beer in hand and sipping the fresh, cold liquid. "Betcha I could say the same of you."
"Oh indubitably." The Keeper agreed. Wendy raised an eyebrow, and the man chuckled. The waitress returned with his mug, and he nodded in thanks before taking a deep swig.
"Don't get me wrong," the Keeper said, wiping his mustache of leftover foam. "I love my job, and my life. It's just me I don't like about it. That's something I can live with."
Wendy sighed and looked at her reflection in her glass. For a moment, she'd thought she might actually have someone to speak with about her… condition. For a fleeting moment, a shining ray of hope beamed down on Wendy. She might not have been alone in her endeavors.
"The way you're looking wistfully in a drink colored like piss, I'd guess you have more of a reason than I do to dislike yourself."
This conversation was turning into something dangerous. The Keeper seemed more keen than Wendy liked. She wanted to leave, and at the same time wanted to tell this man to fuck off. Before her alcohol riddled brain could come up with a decision, the Keeper made the choice for her.
"I think I'd best be going, anyway." The Keeper said, glancing down at his watch. He stood from the table, finished chugging his beer, and left a note on the table as payment. "Those bells don't keep themselves."
Wendy wanted to thank the man, but the right words wouldn't come to her brain. The words that did escape her jumbled tongue were of thanks, but only in her buzzed mind.
"Fuck you."
The Keeper chuckled and put his hands in his coat pocket. "You're welcome. If you see me in here some day, you're more than welcome to chat me up. No one needs to drink alone."
It was mere minutes after the Keeper of the Bells left the building that Wendy realized he wasn't just talking about her. This must have been his routine. Watch a bell that never really tolled now that she thought about it, grab a quick drink, and go back to doing nothing. It seemed lonely.
But he also seemed happy. The Keeper had said so himself, and Wendy had no reason to not believe him The gears slowly turned in Wendy's head. She could learn to be happy while still hating who she was. Just because she was a monster didn't mean she had to make her life a living Hell. Wendy brought her glass again as she spoke.
"I'm Wendy Corduroy…" Wendy said, and began to guzzle her ninth beer. She used to finish her mugs with sips and final mouthfuls, but the need for celebration brought her to a swift end of the pint. All the while she finished her mantra in her head, for once smiling through the process.
Sadly, when the alcohol had left her system, she'll have found out about the unforgivable sin she commits during her intoxication.
Frida spent her time at the library reading through certain magical tomes and scrolls. Tildy was in the process of teaching her how to conjure an ice apparition. It was the spirit of someone who had been lost to the freezing temperatures of the mountains surrounding their city. But just because Frida was learning how to summon one didn't mean she was actually going to; Practice makes perfect.
David felt confident enough to be open about his crush on The Librarian. He would stare at her in the middle of a conversation with Frida, or pretend to read a book while glancing at Kaisa after every sentence. She knew, of course, but she didn't mind. A school boy having a crush in a peer was common, and she knew it would pass. Though, Hilda's red cheeks every time David unabashedly fawned over the Librarian made her a bit curious.
The blue haired girl was lazily flipping through the pages of a book when Kaisa approached her. Hilda smiled and quickly pushed the book aside. From the cliché romantic title along with the picture of a bare chest man, it was clear she wasn't even reading it.
"You're unusually quiet today, Hildie," said Kaisa, to which Hilda rolled her eyes. She hated that nickname.
"I'm just thinking about stuff."
"Stuff with long, red hair like the trees in a cool autumn morning," Frida teased from her spot a few tables down.
"Stuff with the voice as soothing as a running stream, trickling along the pebbles." David added, coming to stand beside Kaisa as he made a show of faux fainting and placing his hands over his heart.
"You're one to talk," the Librarian said, nudging his shoulder with her elbow. David, despite being able to get back at Hilda for her multiple wins at Dragon Panic, blushed.
"I'm, uh… gonna go over there now." David walked away to look at his excuse for leaving, which happened to be a particularly neat looking pen on the Librarian's desk.
"He's got it bad for me," Kaisa said. She sat in the chair across from Hilda, placing her portable music player on the table as she did. Her last one had slipped from her pocket and broken, so she wanted to be extra careful.
"You have no idea," Hilda replied with a chuckle. "Thanks for saving me, by the way."
"I don't have a crush on anyone, so you're not totally saved."
"You hush." Hilda demanded. Frida shrugged and continued reading her book. The blue haired girl turned back to Kaisa with a bashful smile.
"So you're a little infatuated yourself, eh?"
"Maybe," Hilda all but confirmed, averting her eyes and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "She said we were like opposites because of my hair. She's really pretty, and cool. And her eyes were so… green."
Hilda felt a goofy grin spread across her face when remembering her truly infantile interaction. She knew that her puppy love was nothing more than that. Hilda was a smart girl. But the damned butterflies in her stomach wouldn't go away with logic and reasoning.
"Oooh, she sounds wonderful." Kaisa said as she leaned forward. She did enjoy playing along with children. They were the future, and seeing their bright faces was something wondrous. Something didn't sit right with the Librarian though. This was merely an innocent crush, so why was her intuition screaming from the back of her head. "Is she new?" Hilda nodded.
"I think so. I've certainly never seen her before. Trolberg is a big city, but I think I'm confident I would've recognized her."
"She's that eye catching, hm?" Kaisa asked with a slight lull to her voice. She decided to push her worry away, at least for now. "Seems like she'll sweep someone else off their feet before you get the chance to."
If Hilda's face were any brighter, the Librarian might have thought Frida had cast a spell behind her back to turn her friend's head into a tomato.
"W-well I don't think I could do that anyway!" Hilda squeaked and began playing with her scarf. "I'm quite a bit younger than her, after all."
"Maybe in a few years, you could woo her. You're a cute girl, you're bound to have an attractive body."
"Stop!" Hilda begged, hiding her face in her sweater. Kaisa laughed and stood from the table, giving her little friend her rest.
In Hilda's mind, passed the embarrassment, was raised a question at Kaisa's words: Why did her body need to… grow, for lack of a better word, for someone to find her attractive?
Hilda laid her head on the table she sat at, using her scarf to hide her face. Only now, though it was still pink with embarrassment, she hid her face so that she could think. This was the first time she had ever thought about her body in a manner as to win someone's heart.
Kaisa had just planted a dangerous seed in Hilda's young mind. Years later, The Librarian with purple streaked hair would blame herself for what happened to Hilda. Just one sentence set the girl on a path of destruction.
Wendy was having some trouble getting home with the sun setting. She had left the bar and was walking down the street, sweater tied around her waist, when she felt the need to vomit. She dashed between two homes and emptied her stomach, booze and stomach fluids covering the ground.
"Oh dear God…" Wendy whispered as she wiped her mouth. She had to force herself to not dry heave again, as the mere smell of today's drinks was enough to make her wretch again. She stumbled from between the houses and continued on her way, eyesight as blurry as shattered stained glass.
She could barely see five feet in front of herself. Luckily, Wendy's drunken state did nothing to impair her hearing.
"Wendy?"
God fucking damn it.
Wendy thought this when she heard the recognizable voice. She stopped in her tracks and struggled to focus her eyes, only seeing a blue and red blur in front of her. Blue hair, and a red sweater. Wendy sighed through her nose. It just had to be this girl.
"Heyyyy, Hilda." Wendy greeted the girl with a wave, or an attempt at one. "Fancy seeing you here."
"I'm walking home from the library." Hilda explained. Though her face glowed a slight pink, the worry in her expression far outweighed her infatuation. Something was wrong. "Are you alright?"
"Fine, 'm fine." Wendy let Hilda's question roll right through her ears to land on the ground in a loud plop. Of course, she was the only one to hear this in her head. "Just… I'm just walking home from the library."
Hilda narrowed her eyes. She wasn't new to the knowledge of the affect of alcohol. Her mother had a glass of wine at dinner now and again and had relaxed with a dreamy look on her face as she watched the telly, but it had never left her stumbling and slurred. This, Hilda had been taught, was what absolutely wasted looked like.
"You are not fine." Hilda said. With only a moment's hesitation, she stepped forward and slipped her hand in the taller woman's own. "Let's get you home and into bed."
"No!" Wendy said, yanking her hand from Hilda's grasp. The sudden movement gave her a pounding headache, but that didn't matter. This was a red flag.
"You need rest!" Hilda protested, placing her hands on her hips. The pout in Hilda's lips sent all the wrong signals to the taller woman's brain, among other places. Though, the more she thought about this little girl, the more her alcohol riddled system asked: Why not?
"I can find my own way home." Wendy said, her slurred voice hiding her desperate undertones. "I'm Wendy Corduroy."
At Hilda's raised eyebrow, Wendy cursed herself. She had started the first half of her mantra without realizing it. She made a mental note to not say the other part around this girl.
"Alright," said Wendy as she continued walking, giving the younger girl a wide berth as she walked around her. She had to get home. She had to get away. Sadly, the sound of smaller footsteps beside her own made her lose the hope she had accumulated at the bar.
Hilda didn't say anything as they walked. She had resorted to being the quiet companion, only being a source of comfort for the drunk woman. When Wendy stopped to heave her stomach full of nothing, Hilda gave a back rub. When Wendy nearly stumbled over her own feet, Hilda stayed on the side she stumbled toward, so as to make sure the taller woman didn't fall directly on the pavement. Wendy had to remember to thank Hilda when she was sober.
Eventually, the pair finally came to the front of Wendy's apartment home: a plain white building with a wooden door and a single window.
"Well," Wendy began, looking down at her little helper. "Bye." With those two, simple, rude words, Wendy began fumbling for her keys. She spent all of two minutes searching through her pants pockets before switching to the sweater around her waist.
"Need any help?" Hilda asked, twirling a ring of keys on her finger.
"Nah." Wendy said, not looking up as she shook her sweater, listening for a jangling. Hilda rolled her eyes and walked passed Wendy, trying each key and opening the front door.
"Come on." Hilda said, wrapping her tiny hand around Wendy's wrist.
"My door's open?" Wendy asked no one in particular as Hilda lead her passed the threshold.
"Took your keys during one of your episodes." Hilda explained. It had been easy to slip the keys from Wendy's pockets. She doubted the woman would notice anything while her stomach waged war against her. Hilda fumbled along the wall beside the door and flipped a switch, illuminating the room. "Where's the kitchen?"
"Door on the left." Wendy rubbed her eyes with her palms, attempting to get used to the sudden light. Her sweater fell to the floor, forgotten. When she blinked away the dots, Hilda was already running cold water in a glass. Hilda was back at her side in a matter of seconds, leading her to the bed and laid the glass of water on the beside table.
Wendy sat on the bed and the cushion made it difficult to not fall backwards. She removed her pine tree hat and set it gently beside her water, then grabbed said liquid and took a few tentative sips. She knew that if she were to guzzle the nectar of life, her stomach would fight against the sudden intruder with gusto.
"How are you feeling?"
Wendy looked passed her glass and studied the little girl. She stood there, smiling innocently with her hands behind her back. She seemed to have gotten over her embarrassment in favor of playing the nurse. She hadn't realized it earlier, but the girl seemed to be dressed rather warmly. Now that she thought about it, Wendy felt stifled by this room. The main cause of her hot flash, she suspected, was that she was alone with the girl she had been trying so desperately to avoid all day.
"Hot." Wendy wheezed. Wendy set her glass down and began fumbling with the buttons on her flannel. "Like… really hot."
"Oh!" Hilda had shifted quickly from worried helper back to flustered girl with a crush. The sudden cleavage she was met with when Wendy undid the top buttons of her shirt made the girl feel… strange. Her stomach tightened, and she felt her face heat up all the more. She had seen her mother's breasts before when they bathed together in her early years, but this was different.
Wendy knew what her body was doing. She knew, and yet, she couldn't stop it. All she could think about, after opening her shirt to reveal her bare torso aside from her bra, was the question her alcohol riddled brain had made to her. Why not seduce this girl? She was obviously attracted to Wendy, even if she knew nothing about such attraction. Why couldn't Wendy just…
"That's so much better." Wendy said, tilting her head from side to side. Her dome felt heavy. Everything about her felt heavy, including her eyelids. But she didn't dare close them. She was having too much fun watching the girl in front of her fidget about. Hilda shifted her weight from foot to foot, her eyes dashing from Wendy's body, to her relaxed face, and back to the twins hidden behind white fabric.
"Do you like girls, Hilda?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Do you like girls?" Wendy repeated, leaning forward. She was sure to bring her shoulders forward slightly, forcing her breasts together and making her cleavage all the more presentable.
"I-I, uhhh…" Hilda's words were lost to her. Never in her life had she thought of gay, or straight, or bi, or any other sort of orientation. Now, as she was faced with the question, she found the answer easy to come to her mind. Her lips, however, were a different story.
"You know, you've been on my mind all day." Wendy admitted. The surprise Hilda felt was nothing compared to the sudden jolt she felt through her chest. What was this warmth? What was this anticipation? It just got hotter and hotter, and Hilda found it difficult to not strip of her own outer layers of clothing.
"Really?" Wendy nodded.
"You're really cute." Wendy reached forward and ran her fingers through a handful of Hilda's hair. "Like,reallycute. I was thinking of thanking you for takin' such good care of me."
The sips of water had done wonders to settle Wendy's stomach. So much so that she felt a burst of euphoria. It seems that with Hilda's care plus emptying her stomach of the alcohol gave her a second wind. If only her mind would catch up to her body. Maybe she wouldn't be making this disastrous choice.
"You ever kiss anyone?"
Slowly, Hilda shook her head. In her mind, she had an idea of where Wendy was going with her train of thought. Her mind screamed at her to turn on her heel and leave Wendy. She was almost twice her age, not to mention Hilda was a minor. Her mother was expecting her home, and would be worried if she didn't return soon. What could be a simple kiss could turn into something Hilda would never be able to come back from. She was a smart kid. She knew this.
Yet, when Wendy's hand moved further, gently holding the back of Hilda's head, it didn't matter what she knew. Her mind and thoughts didn't matter. Her body had won the fight the very moment Wendy began to unbutton her flannel shirt.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Hilda's face was brought to Wendy's. Hilda couldn't bare it. She closed her eyes.
Wendy, however, kept her eyes open. She watched Hilda's face inch closer, felt their noses touch, and finally, their lips met. For a moment, Wendy simply enjoyed the sensation of such a soft mouth against her own. Then, her hands wandered. Wendy began with the girl's beret, the scarf joining the little hat on the floor merely seconds later.
God fucking dammit.