Daemon stopped looking at the unfinished work and went to take his phone he had placed at the side.
The number he didn't recognize made him frown, but he still answered:
"Who is it?"
His frown deepened before he replied to whatever was said by the one on the other side of the call:
"Alright, I'll be there."
He hung up, and his frown went away, but he didn't look happy as he looked at the time. He was doing a bit of overtime, as he was not noisy anymore, but now that he had been interrupted, he could only go out and take some air.
He exhaled. It was not too bad to have his brain rest before coming back to complete the adjustments the next day.
He took a shower and changed his clothes. He hailed a cab, and soon stopped before a bar. It was a high-class one, the kind that allowed people to unwind in a calm and relaxed atmosphere with low noise while savoring different alcoholic beverages.
Inside, after looking around, he saw Cynthia sprawled on a table, an empty glass in hand. She seemed to have drowned some sorrows instead of simply savoring the drinks she had ordered. From the side, a few men were eyeing her, no doubt thinking about how to land themselves a beautiful home strike.
When he got close to her, a waiter immediately approached.
"Sir, are you here for the lady? Would you mind proving that you are the one who has been called?"
Daemon's first thought was that the place was worthy of being high-class. Or maybe the background of Cynthia made them careful. He doubted that she would allow herself to get drunk in an unknown bar no matter what was troubling her.
He took his phone and called Cynthia's, then showed the waiter the name that appeared on the screen. Then he called the same number that contacted him, before showing his old ID.
Only after that did the waiter apologize and give him the car key belonging to the inebriated woman.
"No worry. You did the right thing."
After finding Cynthia's luxurious sports car outside, and helping her fasten her seatbelt, Daemon looked at the woman whose address he didn't know. He felt speechless, wondering why she made the bar call him. Couldn't she have bothered her friends or her plethora of suitors instead?
He held back a sigh:
"How down must you be to get yourself so drunk?"
While normal soldiers might be some of the best customers of alcohol stores, where he had been the last six years, even the addicted ones had had that weakness beaten out of them, much less him who had never really liked alcohol. And indeed it was considered a weakness. Anything that could dull the mind, slow the body, lower combat capabilities, and be used against the operatives, was a weakness. And he could say the section might be one of the best detoxification centers in the world.
He shook away irrelevant thoughts, and turned to the GPS. After extrapolating Cynthia's home address from the recorded history, he revved the engine of the car before calming down. He couldn't let one of his few pleasures cause him to be reckless in the middle of the city. After all, he was a law abiding citizen, and with his background, he should lead by example.
So following the rules, he got onto the road at an average speed. With the GPS , he reached an upscale building half an hour later. He had never been there, but following the usual ways, he found the entrance to the underground garage.
He was out of words at the sight of the drunkard that fell asleep. He seemed to have forgotten how careless normal people were in their normal life. And he didn't even know the apartment that was hers in the building.
He helplessly took her handbag and went through for her keys or her ID card. If not for her phone being locked, he would have just called one of her friends to come take over this thankless job.
Even what he did with the nurse's phone when he woke up at the hospital would not work. After all, how could her friends have special lines for communication?
He suppressed another sigh:
"Take it as me paying back your care for me at the hospital."
After muttering the small complaint, Daemon took her in a princess carry. He locked the car, took the elevator, and stopped in front of the door that should be hers.
But this time, he failed to hold back a sigh out of exasperation. The lock was electronic, as he had suspected when he had failed to find any key, with a code needed to unlock it.
"Hey, Cynthia. Wake up and unlock the door."
He shook the woman. But when he got no response, he helped promote the blood circulation of her face by clapping his palm against her cheeks.
The growing discomfort finally made the drunk woman regain some awareness:
"Daemon…?"
"Focus, and unlock the door."
Cynthia looked around and was surprised:
"What ~ are ~ you ~ doing ~ at my ~ place? Did ~ you ~ come ~ to ~ visit ~ me?"
"That's right. So open the door, if not I will turn around and leave."
"No… wait."
*Biiip*
After some struggle, the sound of failure stunned her, making her overcome a bit of the alcoholic haze.
*Crack*
She tried to enter the code once again, and this time she succeeded. Daemon lost no time going inside. It was evident that neither the place, nor the decorations were cheap.
After a superficial look around, he made a beeline for the bedroom. He placed Cynthia on the soft bed and looked at her with some of his displeasure appearing on his face.
He didn't linger, and turned to leave, but once at the door, he stopped. Suppressing a sigh with his head facing the sky, he decided to be a good person to the end.
He returned to her side. First helping her with her shoes, he then helped her take off her coat. After that, he tucked her under the sheets, making sure to leave her hands free while the rest was protected.
As he was leaning over her, their faces prey close, making him think back to a few days ago at the nightclub. He stopped for a bit as he looked at her, then pushed her hair away from her face as a last act of kindness.
He was about to stand up and finally leave when she opened her eyes once again. She gave Daemon a hazy look, then held his collar and whispered:
"Daemon…"
Daemon's mild surprise changed into astonishment when she kissed him. But his reaction didn't go beyond that, and he didn't return the kiss. And her being drunk was not the only reason why. His default neutral expression came back after the bout of astonishment.
Cynthia's spurt of energy didn't last, and with a small push he freed himself before leaving the room.
When he left the building, he looked at the night sky and sighed. He remembered that he had never sighed the last few years at all. This meant that he established and simultaneously broke records tonight.
He thought back to what just happened, but his mind didn't stop on that, instead going back more years in the past. He seemed to have forgotten what Evelyn's lips had been like. After all, it had been so long. Only his heart was still remembering the feeling of those years when he used to hold her in his arms and dream of their future together.
Instead of hailing a cab, he started walking, with the cold in the wind his only company.
He hoped that she was happy, now, though he didn't feel worthy of barging into her life after six years and disturbing her. Not after how he had burned down what they used to have, leaving only ashes as sole remnants.
Locking everything away in his heart, Daemon started his trek to return to his hotel, his back solitary among the throngs of passers-by.