crowded nights ➵ allegra & horatio
(dontcallhoratio)
allcgra:
The bar was full, as it always was in the later hours of the day, and so Allegra was struggling to find a seat to claim. It wasn’t unusual to see the place so crowded, especially since Verona seemed to host quite a number of drinkers. However, in the days she had the time, or whenever she ran out of her own stash, she was usually able to find an empty table fit for one. But that night, nearly all of the places were filled, and most of the empty chairs were placed at tables where seemingly unapproachable people sat.
Taking a quick look around at the bar, eyes trained on seats that may be empty, she landed on a stool at the counter, in front of the bartender she’d grown familiar with in the nights she was present. She fancied a table, but because of its unavailability, she was fine with the counter. At least she could receive her drinks sooner, and with the night she just spent in her parents’ office, she definitely needed the drink. Or, at least she decided that she needed the drink, despite her body’s own warning against overdoing it.
She walked quickly over to the bar, a smile brightening her features as it naturally did when she surrounded herself with people, and only stopped when the stool was directly in front of her. As to not be rude, she made sure to ask the woman on her left if the seat was taken – to which the other woman shook her head, before turning to the man on her right.
“Hi, excuse me, is this seat taken?” She asked.
The Nielsen-Kabet residence--which was really just the Nielsen residence, since Horatio didn’t pay rent--had its own personal liquor store of sorts, with all the spirits, beers, and wines that Horatio could ask for. Still, Horatio loved going to a bar when he could, not only for the ease of not having to fix himself his drinks, but for the company--or maybe the lack there off. The apartment wasn’t really Horatio’s place--it was Hamlet’s place, and even when his roommate wasn’t there, Horatio could feel his presence in the slight smell coming from the room at the end of the hall, the bloody tissues littered in the bathroom trash can, the trash American shows on the DVR.
This was why some nights, Horatio found himself in a bar stool, nursing something warm and strong in his hand. In bars like these, ones that he never went to with Hamlet, Horatio took pleasure in the quiet murmuring crowd, the small smile of the bartender, the wink in the eye of the thin and tan blonde boy in the corner. All of these things gave Horatio peace, a break from the monotony and soullessness of work and the sour longing for something more at home.
Horatio accepted another glass from the bartender with a small nod and took a sip from it, holding the liquid for a moment before swallowing it and closing his eyes. It was a little earlier than Horatio usually got started, but he didn’t intend to get stone cold drunk tonight. He just wanted a change. Maybe even a little bit of company.
A young woman’s voice caught his attention, and he looked over his shoulder at her. She was lovely and lithe, and it was apparent from the way she dressed that she was more than a little wealthy. He turned a little and pulled out the stool for her. “By all means. Sit.”
