**CONTENT WARNINGS: Alcohol, mentions of Sexual Acts, and mentions of Violent Crimes**
Reader discretion is advised
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
"Oi! I need a beer!" Said a large, hairy man.
"Can I get a gin and tonic?" Asked a lanky, old man.
"I need two shots of whiskey for table four." Said one of the servers.
"My lady would like a glass of wine." Said a young, well-dressed man.
It's been four years since Lars started working at Old Town pub. The boy had grown almost a foot in height, cut his hair short so it did not reach past his ears, and wore clothes that were not raggedy. His job at the pub was usually just to clean up, however, there were times when he had to serve drinks, cook food, restock shelves, and manage the floor. Since Lars doesn't have a specific title at the pub, his job is to do whatever is necessary at that moment. Today, one of the bartenders didn't show up to work which meant that the boy had to work behind the bar for a few hours. There was also a dinner rush that was mixed in with the daily happy hour. The pub was crowded, a very unusual sight for a Tuesday night.
The boy was wearing his uniform which consisted of a white button down shirt, brown trousers, matching brown suspenders, a white apron, and shiny, black shoes. The boy had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing a few scars and a couple of canine teeth marks on his forearms. The collar of his shirt was buttoned up, almost pinching the skin on his neck and making it hard to swallow. The pub was very warm and Lars was sweating like a nun at a brothel. His slicked back hair was getting messier by the hour as he ran around the establishment, pouring drinks, helping the wait staff, and cleaning the counter. All the heat made him feel very dehydrated and light-headed. This wouldn't be the first time he passed out at work.
Once the pub closed, Lars undid his collar button and filled his cup with tap water before taking a big gulp from it. He wiped his face with a wet napkin and sighed before sitting down on a bar stool, his feet were aching in delight once he shifted his weight onto the seat of his chair. A young barmaid, a few months older than him, approached him. She was wearing a dress and an apron that were both the same colors as Lars' uniform. The barmaid was a human brunette with blue eyes and light beige skin. Her long hair was tied up into a messy bun and she seemed to be a few inches shorter than Lars. She sat down on the bar stool right next to him.
"How was work, honey?" The barmaid asked.
"Hectic," Lars chuckled, "How was yours, Eva sweetie?"
"Oh you know," she shrugged, smiling, "Hectic as well." The two of them began laughing for a moment. "I almost forgot," said Eva, "Next week is our one year anniversary."
Lars raised his eyebrows, "Really? So soon?"
"Yes!" The girl crossed her arms, "Don't tell me you forgot."
"Of course I didn't forget." Said Lars as he laughed nervously.
Eva observed his face for a moment, "Hmm…" She then smiled, "Alrighty then! I hope you got something really nice planned for next week."
"Oh yes of course!" Said Lars, sweating again, "I've got something in store that you'll absolutely love." He smiled.
"Well what is it?" She asked in excitement.
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?" Eva pouted.
"I can't tell you because," he darted his eyes across the room for a split second before answering, "Because it's a surprise. A special surprise." He smiled nervously.
"Oh ok! That makes sense." Eva smiled, "Anyways, I think my brother is here to walk me home. I must get going now. I'll see you tomorrow, honey."
"Alright," said Lars, "I'll see you tomorrow as well, sweetheart." The two of them hugged and gave each other a quick kiss that lasted less than a second. Eva then waved goodbye to Lars as she left the pub.
Oh shit! Thought Lars, Our anniversary is in a week! How could I have forgotten? How am I going to be able to plan a very special date for us within a week? He panicked.
The next day, the pub hardly had any customers. There were only three regulars who came to the establishment. Due to this lack of business, Eva and a few of the other staff members were allowed to leave work early. Lars was behind the counter, polishing glass cups, when a bearded dwarven man approached him and took a seat at the bar. The man seemed to be a few years older than him, however, he was a foot shorter than Lars.
"What can I get you?" Asked Lars without looking up from his glass.
"Just a beer," said the man as he placed five shilling coins on the counter, "And maybe some fried pigeon if you have any."
"Alright, sir," Lars finally looked up and took the coins, "One beer coming right-" He paused for a moment to observe the man's face. He looked very familiar. "Bryon?" The boy muttered softly.
"Lars," the man smiled, "I'm glad you remember me."
The boy was overwhelmed with joy, "It's been so long, brother. How have you been?"
Bryon chuckled, "I've been alright. You?"
"I've been doing fine," said the boy as he filled a mug with beer before setting it on the counter in front of the man, "Wait," the boy looked around for a second before facing Bryon again, "Is Horace here?"
Bryon shook his head, "Horace has been long gone."
"Huh?" He raised an eyebrow, "Is he dead?"
The man shook his head again, "Not yet. You see, after he attacked you, Horace ended up lashing out at our other friends."
"Sounds like he missed his old punching bag." Lars sighed as he hunched over the counter with his forearms crossed.
"Oh there's more," Bryon continued, "Horace's crimes got worse. Originally, we would just steal food and money to survive but after you were gone, he started convincing us to rob jewelry stores. Horace believed we could get more money if we sold them. But in reality, it was just an excuse for him to lash out at more people during the robbery."
"Was he armed?" Asked Lars, looking shocked.
The man nodded, "Yes. Over time, he became more aggressive and his crimes became more violent. He went to prison twice and we had to break him out the first time when he was locked up for robbing a store. However, the second time he went to prison was for murder. He killed a shopkeeper when he refused to comply."
"Oh dear," Lars gasped, "I always knew there was something wrong with Horace but I never realized he would kill someone."
"Well," Bryon sighed, "Him cutting off your tail should've been the first, big, red flag that he was capable of doing such horrendous things. However, I chose to stay with him." He put his face in his hands in shame.
Lars placed his hand on the man's shoulder, "You didn't have any other choice, Bryon. We didn't have anywhere else to go after leaving the orphanage. Horace was the only one who was willing to give us food and a place to stay. Not to mention the fact that you were barely ten years old when he took us in. We were with him for so long that he ended up being our only family."
The man removed his hands from his face, revealing red eyes as he was trying to hold back tears. He sighed before looking up at Lars, "I guess you're right, however, it was very wrong for me to leave you behind that night. I came here to apologize. I'm sorry for that and I wish we could be friends again."
The boy handed him a napkin and smiled, "I forgive you, Bryon. You were the only one who truly cared for me, you're my brother."
Bryon used the napkin to wipe away his tears as they finally rolled down from his eyes. He smiled softly, "I'm glad."
"Oh you wanted some fried pigeon, right?"
The man nodded, "Yes and with a side of horseradish, please."
Lars took out his notepad and wrote down his order before going to the kitchen. He handed it to one of the cooks and then returned to the bar. "Your food will be ready in a few minutes."
"Thank you." Said the man.
"So what have you been up to lately?" Asked Lars.
"Well," Bryon took a sip from his mug, "After Horace went to prison again, some of the boys and I moved to Birmingham and got jobs at a textile factory. What have you been up to recently?"
"Not much aside from working here at Old Town pub." Lars chuckled, "This place can get pretty hectic, believe it or not. But the owner is great. Mr. O'Blen treats me pretty well, much better than that caregiver at our orphanage. In fact, he even gave me a guitar for my sixteenth birthday."
"You're very lucky!" Bryon smiled, "I'm glad you like it here."
"So what about *your* job?" Asked Lars, "How's that been?"
"Very stressful and I've heard there's been numerous accidents in the past," he took another sip, "But they passed some rules a few decades ago that made the place safer to work in. So I guess it's not as bad as it used to be."
"That's nice to hear. So where have you been living?"
"The boys and I all got an apartment together. The rent is pretty high for a place with only one bedroom and bathroom," Bryon chuckled, "But it's much better than living under that cold, wet bridge. So where have you been living, Lars?"
"Upstairs," the boy pointed to the ceiling, "I live with the owner in his apartment."
"That's pretty nice!" Bryon smiled.
One of the servers approached the bar, "Fried pigeon with a side of horseradish?" He asked the man. Bryon nodded before the server placed the plate in front of him and returned to the kitchen. The man picked up one of the greasy pieces of bird and dipped it into the sauce before taking a bite.
"This tastes pretty great!" Bryon spoke with a mouthful of food, "Much better than the ones in Birmingham."
Lars smiled, "It's Mr. O'Blen's family recipe. His grandmother first made it when they used to live back in the old country during war time when there was a massive shortage of supplies. That's when she started experimenting with other types of meat like waterfowl and pigeons."
"Waterfowl? Like ducks?" The man raised an eyebrow, "So does this place serve granny's duck roast or something?"
Lars chuckled, "Of course we do!"
"Well that's great," Bryon grinned, "I can't wait to try that next time I come here." The two of them paused and looked at each other for a moment. They then began to burst out laughing. The three other patrons in the pub looked over at them in annoyance. Once they realized that others were staring at them, their laughter quickly died down.
"I know how much you hated eating duck back in the day." Said Lars, smirking.
"Yeah you got me," Bryon chuckled, "Anyways, you got any plans for next week? The boys and I are going swimming in a nice park nearby. I was wondering if you'd like to join us."
"That sounds great but I can't. I have an anniversary to attend next week."
"An anniversary, eh?" Bryon raised an eyebrow, "Is it yours?"
Lars nodded, "Yes, it's my anniversary with my girlfriend."
The man smirked, "Where are you taking her out to?"
"I'm not sure yet," Lars sighed, "I kind of forgot it was coming up so now I have less than a week to come up with something for our date."
"How about a nice picnic in the park?" Asked Bryon as he stroked his beard.
"Isn't the park usually crowded on the weekends?"
"Not at night. Hardly anyone goes there after dark."
"What about," Lars looked around for a second before facing Bryon, "Hooligans at night?"
Bryon narrowed his eyes, "Have you forgotten? You used to *be* a hooligan, remember? We've fought plenty of thugs, police, and junkies. You can hold your own, brother." He slapped the side of Lars' shoulder.
Lars chuckled, "You're right!"
"Have you been practicing with the guitar Mr. O'Blen gave you?"
Lars nodded, "Yes, I have. I've gotten pretty good at it over the years."
"Great!" Bryon smiled, "You should bring it on your date and play it for her."
"That's a great idea! Thank you, brother!" Lars smiled.
"No problem, little brother!"
On Sunday, Lars took Eva to the local park. They were sitting by the pond on a plaid, blue blanket. Lars packed turkey sandwiches with tomatoes and horseradish as well as a bottle of red wine that Mordecai O'Blen gave him for his date. While Eva was eating her sandwich, Lars played a few songs for her on his guitar. He sang an upbeat folk song with a tenor voice and his playing was nearly flawless.
"I never knew you could play the guitar." Said Eva.
"What made you think that?" Asked Lars.
"I've never seen you practice or even touch that guitar."
"Oh," he frowned, "I usually don't like to play in front of other people."
"How were you able to play so well now?"
"I guess I was so excited to impress you that my fear disappeared for a little while."
"Really? Said Eva, raising her eyebrows, "Well you were great!" She kissed him on the cheek.
"Thank you, sweetheart!" Lars smiled.
Some time later, the couple continued eating their food.
"This was great!" Said Eva before she took a sip from her glass, "Thanks for making this anniversary so wonderful, honey." She smiled.
Lars took a bite of his sandwich and smiled, "No problem, sweetheart." He said with a mouthful of food. Eva scooted closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder. Lars finished his sandwich and then wiped the crumbs off of his mouth with a napkin. He leaned into Eva and wrapped his arm around her.
"You know what would be nice right now?" Said Eva, "Some dessert."
"Well I hope you like chocolate because Mr. O'Blen helped me bake some brownies for our picnic." Lars smiled.
"What?" Eva sat up and looked at him, "That's …" She sighed, "Nevermind. Let's go back to my place."
"What about dessert?" Asked Lars as he sat up.
Eva shook her head, "Forget about that. I want to play."
"Oh yeah?" He raised an eyebrow, "What game do you wanna play? I'm getting pretty good at chess."
Eva put her palm on her face and sighed.
Once they entered her apartment, Lars plopped down onto the couch. Eva sat down on his lap and they kissed for a second. Lars kept one hand on her back and another on the top of the couch.
"So what game did you wanna play?" Asked Lars, smiling.
"Honey," Eva looked at him, "That's not what I meant when I said 'play'."
"Huh?" Lars was very confused, "What did you mean then?"
"You know," said Eva, "Play."
Lars just stared at her, puzzled.
"Sleeping together. The devil's tango. Umm…" She thought for a moment, "Jumping the broom?"
"I have no clue." Lars shrugged.
Eva put her face in her palm for a second and then looked at him again, "Sex! I'm talking about having sex."
"Ooh! Well you should've just said so! If you had told me that earlier then I would've prepared."
Eva sighed, "So would you like to accompany me to my bedroom?"
"Wait," said Lars, "Where's your brother?"
"He's not home. He's working late at the factory. We have this whole apartment all to ourselves tonight." Eva smirked as she attempted to kiss him again.
Lars gently placed his hand on her face and stopped her, "I'd love to have my first time with you, my dear. But I can't."
"How come?"
"If you told me beforehand that you wanted to make love then I would've purchased some lambskin."
Eva rolled her eyes, "We don't need that. Everyone knows that a human and a teufel can't procreate together."
Lars raised an eyebrow, "What makes you so sure of that?"
"When was the last time you met a teufel who has a human parent or a teufel who has a human child?" She asked.
Lars thought for a moment, "Good point. Then I guess not having any lambskin shouldn't be a problem."
Eva smiled, "Good," she got up from the couch, "Join me in my bedroom soon." She then left for her room.
"I will." Lars nodded.