Authoress's Note: Okay! Here is the update!
I am fully aware of the dubbed name of "Cecilia" in the series. I like "Cynthia" better; it just flows. I also began this fic before the flashback episode came out. Plus, this is AU, so I can play with things. If you want me to change it, please ask me. If enough people ask, I will consider it. Thank you for all of the nice reviews! : - ) I am really surprised. I don't own "Behind Blue Eyes" or "Yu-Gi-Oh.""But my dreams,
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be."
- the Who
We were in love. I gave up running from Midnight Blue; Cynthia was the sun and he was the night that was trying to close in, but the sun dispels darkness faster than lightning. I was given a discount staying at the inn if I helped with the work, which I did very well. Cynthia teased me.
"Put on your jacket or you'll catch cold!" she said when I took horses out to the stables. She tried to act like my mother, maybe to discourage me from liking her, but this happened less and less as the days went by.
Her lips met mine and we kissed passionately.
"I want to be with you forever," I told her. "Forever and a day…"
I handed her a gold ring, pressing it into her fingers. She looked into my eyes and kissed me again. I let my fingers weave through her hair.
"Have you gone to my father and asked for his permission?"
I put my hands on her face. "Yes, I have. He was pleased, actually."
Wedding plans were made immediately. I moved into the room with her after many promises to her father that I wouldn't touch her until our wedding day. He put us both to work in opposite parts of the inn, and at night we were too exhausted from the planning and the work that we fell asleep immediately.
The bachelor's party was the most interesting thing I had ever been to. It was my first one, and it was also the first time I was to drink alcoholic beverages outside of Sunday worship services.
Of course, I didn't really believe in a God then, and my family had supported atheist beliefs with a burning fire. I loved Cynthia enough to be in her religion, for better or for worse. She helped me in many ways in the months we were together, such as perfecting my accent.
We were about fifteen grown men, some workers at the inn. Others I met in town on various occasions. Mr. Brown was there.
It was at that time that I realized that I absolutely hated beer. Because I didn't want to insult anyone, I drank the pint and tried to control my facial expression. Then I ordered a bottle of wine and drank the entire thing.
Of course, by that time I was drunk to the point of passing out. Sweet white wine coursed through my veins and made me giddy. I don't remember all of what happened that night, but I will try to write the events with as much clarity as I can.
First, my reason left me. I was aware of the poison running through my veins; it reminded me of Midnight Blue's blood. I got up on the table and did a dance. People were laughing and singing a familiar tune. I fell off the table and was helped up by others who were faring better than I was; we all laughed together.
The next thing I did was on the second bottle of wine. Now, mind you, these were not small bottles that restaurants give you. These were very large bottles. It took me an hour to drink it, more or less, and as I did I had the sensation of flying. Everyone by that time was at least as drunk if not more than I was, and the sane part of me was wondering why I had not passed out yet.
Alcohol numbs your senses and takes away the pain. It also removes a little thing called common sense from your mind. Therefore, you should understand the mortifying thing I did afterward.
One of the friends I made and had kept for a miraculous three months was Lynn Bard. He was a really nice man about a year older than I. Lynn, I discovered, was always frail in health. He had pale skin and sunken eyes, but his quick mind and smooth voice made up for his faulty body. Understand that he was very beautiful. When I say "very beautiful," I mean drop-dead gorgeous. He had expressive green eyes and a head of curly black hair that went past his shoulders. "Romanian on my mother's side," he told me once.
The nickname for him was, "Lady Prince."
He never drank anything alcoholic before; he wasn't a member of the church we went to. In other words, he was around where I was where intoxication is concerned.
Lynn staggered up to me and kissed me on the mouth. The pleasure I felt was as much caused by my own feelings as the wine. I kissed back.
No one really noticed. They were having a belching contest.
"I love you, rich boy," he told me. His bottle went against my chest. He took another drink out of it.
We kissed again; nothing changed in the area of attentiveness to what was going on with us. If anyone did see us, it was only to understand that we were so drunk that we had abandoned reason. After all, wine came from Dionysus, the Greek god most people held down there with Satan.
I felt cold air on my back and realized that he was against the table. Someone had just come in through the door, and the affect he had on everyone was purely astonishing.
The man was dressed in a long velvet cloak that hid his features from everyone in the room. A throbbing started in my temples, and I felt a strange pulling coming from what must have been my blood.
He strode up to me and I looked into his eyes. It was obvious that he had not fed in a very long time, and I hoped he would not feed on my before my wedding day. His hand lifted my chin into the air and he looked at the scars on my neck.
You still belong to me, he said in my mind. I can hear every thought.
"No," I whispered. It was soft enough so none of them could hear, but the demon being before me could hear a fly land on a wall. "Not here; not now."
"Later," he told me.
He was gone as quickly has he had appeared, and the party was once again in high spirits. It was like no one knew he had come to me.
Perhaps they didn't.
That was the last thing I was sober enough to remember.