Doranbolt awoke to the sound of a shower running. The noise seemed to pierce his head, starbursts of pain dug into his skull with every cascade of water against porcelain. He let out a moan, the physical manifestation of the pain throbbing inside of his head. It would be reasonable to conclude that he had drank an excessive amount of alcohol last night, if the pounding in his head was any inclination. Now, if he could just get whoever was showering in his bathroom to shut up…
Wait a second. Showering in his bathroom? Where was he? Bleary blue eyes drifted around the unfamiliar room, much too expensive for anything he could afford. And he sure as hell didn't remember going anywhere with anyone. Fuck. What had happened the night before? Doranbolt just prayed that in his drunken exuberance he hadn't knocked some poor girl up.
Doranbolt was so focused on attempting to regain his missing memories that he was unaware of the shower shutting off; nor was he aware of the figure that was hastily making its way out of the steam, clothed in nothing but a white hotel towel.
Abrupt silence filled the room as Doranbolt finally noticed the man walking towards the other bed that also occupied the room. "L…Lahar? What are you doing here?"
While replacing his absent Rune Knight robe, the other man let out a disdainful sniff, eyes narrowing at his colleague. "Actually, if you must know, I brought you here, directly after you passed out on the side of the road like the drunk that you are. If it weren't for my intervention, you would still be nursing a hangover in some dark alleyway." Doranbolt could only stare in further confusion as Lahar fumbled around for his uncharacteristically absent glasses. As he slipped them over the bridge of his nose, his narrowed amethyst gaze finally meet Doranbolt's own questioning one. Another small huff escaped the tall man before his says in a haughty voice, "It would be like you to simply forget everything due to simple inebriation."
This time, it was Doranbolt's turn to get offended by his superior's words. "Believe it or not, you are not at the forefront of my mind. Actually, I haven't even seen you in 2 years, so you are the farthest thing from my conscious mind. So get over yourself and tell me what the hell's going on."
Fire flashed in Lahar's eyes, stunning Doranbolt into silence. "I never asked for you to think about me in every waking moment. After all, the only thing that you ever think about is that damn guild." His tone was ice cold, sending shivers down Doranbolt's spine. "News flash, Doranbolt. They are all dead. They died when Zeref called to Acnologia and had him annihilate Tenroujima. Now, get your head out of your ass and start acting like a man. It's time to suck it up and face reality, Doranbolt."
"No." It came out as a whisper, barely audible to even himself. Doranbolt felt his chest constrict; his breathing became labored and his breath came out in short pants. He felt Lahar's gaze, but he was too far gone with shock to care about preserving his reputation. All that he could feel was the splinters of ice that were clawing their way into his chest, piercing through every one of his already crumbling defenses. "No"
Doranbolt was sure that Lahar said something, but the roaring in his ears made any words incoherent. Blood pounded in his head, his hangover amplified by a hundred percent. He felt a weak groan slip from his lips, the pain, both emotional and physical, too much to be contained in his body.
A hand on his shoulder stilled his quivering body. Doranbolt looked up, only to lock gazes with amethyst eyes, filled with an unidentifiable emotion. "Stop, Doranbolt." Lahar's voice was nothing more than a whisper drifting past Doranbolt's ears. Something in the way that Lahar spoke seemed so… heart wrenching.
It wasn't until the flow of tears subsided that he realized that he had been crying. A quick sniffle and a steeling of his expression was all that it took to block off the overflow of his vulnerability. His mind slowly came back, and with it his sense of self.
Oh god. He had just had a mental breakdown in front of his boss. "Lahar, I…"
The other man cut him off with a curt squeeze to the shoulder. Doranbolt sucked in a breath, expecting his superior to scold him for his weakness. When Lahar removed his hand, Doranbolt couldn't help the flinch that wracked his body. Violet eyes narrowed, their gaze boring into azure-ringed pupils that dilated with fear. Lahar let out a sigh and looked away from the trembling man that lay in a crumpled heap on the floor.
"Doranbolt, when you are feeling better, please meet me downstairs. We have an urgent matter to discuss regarding our latest mission. I will be at the breakfast bar, so please join me when you regain sense." Doranbolt could only stare blankly as Lahar swept out of the room, the delicate fringe of his robe rustling behind him.
For a few moments, the only action that Doranbolt was capable of was staring transfixed at the now vacant doorway. A small huff and the lowering of tensed shoulders was the first move that Doranbolt made after Lahar left. This was followed closely by the extension of his legs as he walked over to the bathroom. A quick look in the elaborate mirror caused him to wince at the gaunt, haunted face that stared back at him.
He wrenched his gaze from his reflection and forced on cleaning up the best he could while still wearing his clothes from last night. Doranbolt sighed, toweling off his face before heading out of the room. With one last reproachful look, he too left the excessively lavish room.