Roni didn't know why she kept letting this happen. Well, she did, but it was something she wouldn't even admit to herself, let alone anyone else. All she knew was that every year on Christmas Eve, the anniversary of his wife's death, Phoenix would disappear without a trace for the day (not that it made any difference to her, he was insignificant to the happenings in her life, but she heard everyone else whispering about it as she made drinks), then show up at the back door of her bar. She would let him in, then they would go upstairs, drink hot chocolate with cinnamon (a strange combination she knew Henry also enjoyed). How someone she loathed and someone she actually liked could have the same weird affinity for the combination she had no idea, but she made it for them anyway. Well, she made it for Henry. Phoenix was only extended the same courtesy one night a year, and even then, only because she couldn't bear to not take care of him when his son had no other mother figure in his life, only a bunch of ragtag men. After their mugs of hot chocolate were consumed (usually with Phoenix blubbering on about his wife the whole time), they would retire to Roni's bedroom, where she would fall asleep in his arms, too weak to tell him that he needed to walk home or sleep on the couch. Phoenix might be more willing to show it, but Roni was lonely too.
Besides, it wasn't like she wasn't getting anything out of it. Roni always got her hair cut twice a year, and every time she did, she had Phoenix do it, mostly because he would do it for free as payment for letting him show her the worst side of him one night a year. It was a strange arrangement, Roni knew, and every time he came into her bar when it wasn't Christmas Eve, they would begin an endless stream of banter that both exhausted and exhilarated her in equal measure. If it wasn't for his adorable son Riley, she honestly wouldn't put up with him at all.
On this particular Christmas Eve, Phoenix knocked on the wreath-covered door earlier than usual, much to Roni's relief. She was exhausted from a long day of serving her customers. Yes, she had closed up shop early for the holiday (and because she knew she'd have company later that night), but she had still had a plethora of fires to put out that day. Lee, the grumpiest person she had ever met, had decided to come into her bar and order everything on the menu, then drink until he had to be escorted out of the bar. Then Sabine, who helped her with the cooking when she wasn't fantasizing about opening a beignets shop, got so distracted by flirting with Drew through the serving window that she managed to burn five orders' worth of burgers in one go. Then Tilly had come into the bar, determined to annoy all of Roni's customers with her weird antics. All in all, it had just been one thing after another, and while she may not be able to stand the man, she would at least be able to relax for a bit, then indulge in her annual guilty pleasure.
She opened the door and Phoenix stumbled inside, almost falling face-first on the floor. "Roni, I-" Before she could do anything, he fell forward and what looked like spaghetti remnants splayed out onto her welcome mat.
With reflexes that had been honed with years of practice, Roni caught him, then helped him climb the stairs to her apartment. They made slow progress, hindered by his unsteady steps, and the fact that she was a slim woman helping a well-built man up a staircase.
"I miss Meryam. She was just so- full of life, you know?" Phoenix asked once she had settled him on the couch, taken off his shirt, which had been the main casualty other than her welcome mat, and started putting water on the stove to boil. The only light in the room were the twinkling lights on the small Christmas tree she put up every year.
His words were slurred, barely coherent, but Roni hummed and nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. She herself had lost love before- twice, in fact- in tragic circumstances she would never forget. Maybe Riley wasn't the only reason why she put up with this behavior from this man one night a year. Maybe deep down, she tolerated it because she knew exactly how he felt. Losing the person you loved was an experience that ripped its victims' hearts to shreds. It was something that she wouldn't wish on anyone, not even this man whom she could barely tolerate. After years of banter, was it time for them to find common ground? "I know exactly how you feel," she confessed. "My fiance Danny was killed because of me in what appeared to be just a freak accident where a horse was spooked, but I know better. My mother arranged it all, scared the horse on purpose so Danny would be put in harm's way."
Her revelation seemed to sober him up a bit. "Roni, that's awful, I'm sorry."
She shrugged. "It's okay, it's better this way. Now I can just focus on my bar and not have any distractions."
Suddenly, he was standing right in front of her, and she noticed that he was awfully close- too close. He was so close that he could probably see the glistening tears in her eyes. "Don't you wish, though, that life could be different?" he whispered.
She had to laugh at that. Did she? Well, she did, but wishing on stars never did anyone any good except in fairy tales. It had been made clear to her that she was meant to be a loner, and she didn't see the point in trying to convince the universe otherwise.
At least, that was what she told herself, and most days, she believed it. However, staring into those deep blue eyes, she found herself whispering, "Sometimes. Maybe one day it will be."
She cleared her throat, determined to change the subject before the depths of those eyes and his fresh scent- pine mixed with what was unmistakably a hair product- got the best of her and she did something she would undoubtedly regret. Handing him his hot chocolate, she asked, "Where's Riley tonight?"
"With his uncles," Phoenix shrugged. "They look after him every year. I owe them so much, they've been a godsend ever since we lost Meryam. You have too."
"Me?" she asked, astonished. She always steered clear of him other than her haircuts and these nights of drunken escapades, making sure Sabine took his order whenever he visited. He always smelled like the products he used, and there were times when it was just too much for her nostrils to handle. Besides, they could never get through a single conversation- except for this one, apparently- without arguing.
"Of course. No matter how busy you are, you always have time for my son, and it's much appreciated. He adores you."
She smiled. "The feeling's mutual. He's practically perfect in every way."
Her heart stopped when his finger was suddenly on her lip, a blissful expression on his face. "There's that elusive smile I keep dreaming about," he breathed.
Her breath caught in her throat. She had to get out of this situation. Now. "I think it's time we went to bed," she said gently, taking his mug from him and setting it on the counter. She would come back for them after he was safely in bed. They could drink them there.
He nodded and she helped him move to her bedroom. How he had managed to get behind the kitchen counter, she had no idea, because he was still walking unsteadily with each step he took.
Once they were both in bed, mugs in their hands, he took a sip and asked, "Are you truly content with your lot in life?"
Honestly? "No," she whispered. Judging by his current state, he wouldn't remember any of this in the morning, so she felt that just this once, she could be candid, and the honesty was oddly freeing, despite how mortifying it was. She had her patrons, yes, but once the bar was closed for the night, she always had to turn the TV or Spotify on, otherwise the silence was overwhelming and, more importantly, depressing.
"Me either," he confessed. 'I love Riley and my men, but I always wonder what it would be like to have someone to share my life with again."
Suddenly, he was much too close, that odd mixture of pine and a hint of hair product consuming her senses. "What do you say we take a chance? Make each other not feel so lonely?"
Almost too late, Roni realized what was happening. Phoenix was drunk, he wouldn't remember any of this in the morning. She might have less-than-amorous feelings toward him at times, but no one deserved someone taking advantage of them like this. As Phoenix leaned toward her, she cupped his cheek. "I want to say yes, but… How about we see if you still want this in the morning? I'm many things, but someone who takes advantage of someone in this state isn't one of my character traits and never will be."
His face fell, and it gutted her, but she knew she had to stand firm. "Will you at least not make me sleep on the couch?"
She chuckled. "Of course not." She never did. Why would she start now?
"Good," he sighed. "Because without having you next to me, this night wouldn't be the same."
His words sent a swooping sensation soaring through her stomach. She was supposed to be better than this. She wasn't some teenage girl with her first crush, but when he wasn't being infuriating, challenging her at every turn, Phoenix made her feel that way all over again. "Me too," she confessed. All of these revelations would come back to haunt her, she was sure of it, but she would deal with the consequences of her loose tongue later. Right now, all she wanted to do was be in Phoenix's arms.
Next thing she knew, both mugs had been placed on her bedside table and she and Phoenix had both burrowed into the sheets. She was on her side, and for a moment, she enjoyed just lying so close to him until he requested, "Can I hold you?"
"Yeah," she murmured, already starting to be lulled by slumber's sweet siren call.
It seemed that her permission was all he needed, because in the next second, his arm was around her, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on her waist. His warmth consumed her, and she sank even further into his embrace. He pressed a kiss into her curls, and just as she couldn't resist sleep anymore, she could have sworn she heard him whisper, "I love you, Roni."
This OQ bedsharing month entry is based on Thay's ( beingamaguire's) prompt "Roni going to get a haircut at Robin's and the rest is history" and the prompt "it's an annual tradition for some reason."