My first week is over. Its midnight at the Sliced Barnacle about five hours since Lyon rescued me. I saw him earlier. The inn had gotten so overrun with "suspicous characters" I couldn't get supper delievered to my room. I was forced downstairs into the midst of the crowd. I thought I would be out of place. I wasn't.
After two or three...or four pints, I was dancing on the tables. Made of complete fool of myself. But at the time I was having fun! I ended up tripping and landing into the arms of a dark, cloaked man. From under his hood, he looked extremely attractive. He gave me a what seemed sinister smile and took me up to my room. I don't know how he knew where I was sleeping but he found the room just fine and laid me down in bed.
He left me in a state of drunken weariness. I wanted to roll over and sleep, but someone knocked on the door.
It was Lyon!
He came in with a wet cloth and a thick syrup. He spoon fed me the syrup and cleaned up. He worked in silence, like a skillfull doctor. He bandaged my cut leg and put salve on a scraped knee. I watched him work and wondered why he was being so quiet. I couldn't help but be a little hurt by it.
He gathered together his things. But before he left, he kissed my forehead.
"New to drinking aren't you?" he said with a smile.
I nodded. And he left.
Now with a clearer head, thanks to that syrup, but a shaky hand, I write in my journal. Lyon, sweet Lyon, I wonder if he is thinking of me now?
And that stranger with the lean, but strong arms that had carried me to bed. He smelled like sea salt. This town does not, but he did.
Goodnight.
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