Work Text:
Matthias sway the glass wine in his hand, absentminded. He stares into the red liquid silently. How many glasses had he taken tonight? By this point, the Barmaid, Demi, just left the wine bottle right beside him. He glanced at the exquisite bottle of wine, only half of the liquid remaining inside. The bottle reflects his messy and distorted face, slightly flushed with the alcohol in his system. Matthias doesn’t like looking at it, so he simply turns his gaze away, staring into space and chugging down the drink as if it’s a mere shot. Despite having a high tolerance, the alcohol started to kick in. The puppeteer propped his chin on his palm, lowering the glass to the table.
It’s quite late, almost midnight. Most of the manor residents are resting in their own rooms, or minding their own business before the new game begin. This evening, the bar was packed, as there were a lot of adults needing refreshments, like him. But now, only Matthias remained, having free reign over the bar. Demi trust him with the bottles, after their last drinking game, revealing his high tolerance. He hummed at the memory, remembering how most of the survivors were passed out drunk or red in the face or crying. It was a disaster. But despite being in the chaotic environment, Matthias enjoyed it.
It was a rare moment where he doesn’t feel overshadowed, or left out.
His lips raised slightly. Matthias poured himself another glass. He drank it slowly this time, savouring it. He had drunk more than usual, a bit unhappy about the match results. He’s happy about Louis getting destroyed though, able to enjoy some alone time without the chirpy puppet around. But the match was unsatisfactory. He put down the glass, a finger tracing around the rim, brown eyes staring at the red liquid inside. He’s getting a little more floaty… maybe it’s enough alcohol for tonight. Dazed brown eyes look at the clock, ticking just past midnight. He sighed, debating whether he should stop drinking or not.
Then, he heard the bar door open, along with soft footsteps. Matthias doesn’t bother to look. He knows who’s coming.
“The bar is closed for the night, sir,”
He said before the other can voice out, pouring himself another glass. A gloved hand reached out and took the glass away, and the puppeteer let him. The owner of the gloved hand sat on the stool beside him.
“Yet you’re still here,”
Youthful voice, youthful appearance. Florian brand was always pestering him, not deterred by his introverted nature. They manage to build a relationship, somewhat. No title to it yet. But it’s fine. Matthias is content like this.
“I have the privilege,”
He’s loosened by the alcohol, brown eye glancing to the side, locking with the other’s eye. Florian just let out a chuckle and prop his cheek on his palm, mimicking the puppeteer pose. A gloved hand reach out, running through the brown hair lazily. Matthias closed his eyes with a hum, folding his arms on the counter and lowering his head to it. The hand followed his movements, not parting for a second.
“I saw Louis,”
Florian started, the forever smile on his face. Matthias merely answered with a blink, looking up at him silently.
“He was destroyed badly. But I'm glad you’re okay,”
Florian had scanned the other when he first opened the door. Sucks that the first aid kit in his bag can’t be used. He doesn’t have a reason to touch those waist.
“Awful match,”
Matthias replied shortly, waving a hand with a heavy sigh. His pale face is flushed from the alcohol intake, his eyes a little dazed. Florian noticed. He responded with a hum before quietly stood up and place the wine bottle back on the shelves. He drank the wine left in the glass and left it on the sink.
Matthis silently watch him move about, straightening up slightly.
“Come on, you’ve drunk enough,”
The blonde gently rubbed at the brown hair before taking his hand, helping Matthias stand up. Matthias staggered slightly, a heavy sigh passed his lips. He let go of the hand, trying to walk on his own.
Florian doesn’t stop him. But a steady hand pressed against the puppeteer back. Matthias glance at the blonde, not saying a word and just keep walking. He must admit, he had too much to drink tonight.
The manor is huge. The survivors residence is on the second floor. Matthias look at the flight of stairs in disdain, pursuing his lips. He feels a gentle nudge on his back, gently supporting his body.
Thus, they arrived at the puppeteer room shortly. Matthias opens the door, a new unblemished Louis already sitting on the desk with its eyes closed. He stepped in, and Florian remains outside.
Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s the comfort and warmth he longed for, but Matthias opened his mouth-
“Come in, Florian,”
He invited, soft voice hushed to not disturb the quiet manor. The blond has no reason to refuse, so he too steps inside languidly, closing the door behind him.
The room the manor provided is simple but fulfilled their necessities. A fluffy bed, a bedside table, chairs, sofa. Many others brought their own things to decorate it how they liked. Matthias brought Louis, and a small wooden string puppet.
Florian would like to watch a puppet show someday.
Matthias flopped to the bed, visibly exhausted. Florian chuckled at that, walking quietly and sat down on the edge of the bed. He gently ran his finger through the brown hair again, this time with his ungloved hand. Matthias let out a soft hum, his eye already drooped halfway. A cold hand reach up to tug at the blonde shirt.
Florian understood the gesture. He dropped his bag and took off his glove, laying down beside the other. Matthias huddled closer, sighing to his chest. It’s rare for him to be this unguarded, so Florian cherished it. He silently wrapped his arms around Matthias, embracing him. The brunette breathing soon became even, and his eye closed shut. Florian ran a hand through the brown hair gently, watching the other sleeping face.
It turns out he doesn’t need the first aid kit anyway.