“You’re here for the special drinks. I’m here to kill some time.” Neither of these statements was entirely true, but Magilou would be damned if she gave up that easily. Yet Eizen just had to make it harder and harder for her to counter. A one-of-a-kind experience, was it? At least the light in their little corner was dim. Small blessings.
“The sun and the moon, huh? So it’s a matched set,” an annoying voice suddenly piped up. Of course. How could Magilou forget about Bienfu? The normin had appeared right next to her on the bench and taunted Eizen with a smug look.
“Right, I guess we’d best order one of each drink then,” Magilou threw in, with the cheerfulness of a casino winner. “Or maybe five of each. Oh, or how about ten?”
“M-Miss Magilou…” Bienfu diverted his attention to her. “Don’t you remember what happened the last time you drank too much?”
“Nope!” There was a moment of silence between them. ━ An understanding exchanged with looks alone. Eventually, Bienfu slipped off the bench.
“I’m not cleaning up your mess this time, bien!” Turning to Eizen, the normin added a quick “Good luck!” before running off, undoubtedly to hit on whatever girls he could find in this bar.
“Well, I suppose Bienfu does have a point. Eight drinks each should do the trick.”
The edges of his expression fall flatly into a vague shadow over his face, even in the low light.
Eizen doesn’t respond immediately, not verbally, at least. Instead, a sharp exhale cuts through the stretching silence as he fixes a rueful look upon Magilou. He tries to hold her gaze, trying to piece together an answer from there, though it is futile. Whatever exchange between normin and witch is none of his business, but the question still haunts him.
What exactly happened last time?
“So, you can’t hold your drinks ...” He says, at last. There is a hint of disappointment in his tone as his arms fold before him. He expected this much and this sort of behavior to follow, too. Still, Eizen sighs deeply and rubs at the space between his eyes. “One. You’re only getting one. Don’t even think about arguing.”
And one set of the paired chalices was requested and soon set before them, not without the server tossing them an inconspicuous wink, of course. Eizen reaches for the glass encompassing a milky-blue liquid, the glass already frosting with condensation.
The remaining is left for Magilou to take.
