Hospitality

'Yeah. This is a first.'

Mark gazed at the wooden door across from him, trying to quell the turbulent sea in his heart. He felt like a child again, without his own foundation, easily influenced by others. It was irritating. 

Never before had he lost control in such a manner.

'Wait a damned minute!' 

He trembled for the slightest moment as his eyes darted around the room. Despite being one of the Blessed, he knew little about what it entails.

It was simply a regular day when as a late teen he discovered the ability to control the emotions of other people. And that was it.

The only other fact is that he isn't alone, others also have powers in this rotting world. 

So he looked around. Maybe there are different types of abilities, perhaps there is only one. He wasn't about to disregard that idea, especially when it had to do with his safety. 

Eventually, his unfocused gaze landed on the fair lady in front of him. It was as if she gave off a delicate radiance, her beauty was enrapturing, making it hard to look away.

She was already seated and sipping on the cocktail he had just prepared. A dazzling smile adorned her lips. Mark had not stopped controlling her feelings, ensuring that the beauty was filled with delight. 

"You know, it's rude to stare at others" 

'Shoot' 

His vision focused, meeting the peach-colored eyes of the fair woman before him. In those lustrous pearls shone a glint of amusement.

Perhaps his body was simply acting up. After all, never once had such a fair woman appeared before him. 

"Ah sorry... what is your name again?" 

Her smile slightly widened as a melodious chuckle sounded from her lips. She took another sip from her glass. 

"You can call me Cecile." 

Mark paused, slightly bewildered. 

"Wasn't it something else?" 

He frowned. Yet another annoying sensation he felt today.

One where a thought or idea is so close yet so far. It felt like her name was obscured by a veil of fog right above his fingertips. The hateful barrier made him feel idiotic. 

He watched as the brunette took yet another sip. It felt like she had an endless pool of patience at her disposal.

She smiled bewitchingly.

"Really? I think it fits me just fine."

She paused for a second, her eyes lighting up as an idea seemed to have formed in her delicate head. 

"Though if you prefer... I think 'Milady' also has a nice ring to it..." 

He rolled his eyes in amusement for both himself and the brunette before him, who now had a giddy grin sprawled across her face. The blunder of forgetting what the customer had just said was embarrassing enough. Having her rub it in only intensified the shame he felt. But doing so also gave it a comical edge, making the blow slightly less painful. 

Mark lightly chuckled, adding a hint of mockery to his voice. 

"Milady." 

He paused. 

"You've had one too many drinks." 

Her face took on a hue of exasperation. 

"No need to be so rude!" 

He looked at the young woman incredulously, her face feinting shock. It was quite hard to pull his eyes away from it. 

"How about this, just call me Camille, eh?" 

The bartender lowered and shook his head in defeat, sighing. 

"Camille it is then" 

He looked up and saw that her glass was nearly empty. 

"Would you care for another?" 

Camille looked up with a teasing smile. 

"I didn't think you were the kind of person who would take advantage of women." 

Mark felt his eye twitch. Though he was essentially swindling everyone who entered his bar, he never took advantage of people in that way. 

"No! I'm not" 

Camille smiled.

"Great then I'll have one more!"

'What the hell is wrong with her?' 

He had a feeling that giving any more alcohol to the woman before him would only increase her nonsense. 

"Are you sure?" 

"What kind of bartender says that?" 

"One that is concerned for your mental health." 

While saying that he watched as Camille put some money beside him. 

"Just give me the drink." 

He looked at her hesitantly, then took the money while sighing internally. 

'I give up' 

Mark began to prepare another cocktail with a sense of mirth. Yet... this woman made him lose too much composure, it was quite unsettling. He looked around and was relieved to see that all the other patrons were caught up with their own activities, making the situation more bearable. 

After sliding her the glass, the two continued their nonsensical banter. A smile adorned both of their faces as they became enraptured in amusement, enjoying a seemingly eternal moment as the night deepened. 

It was when everyone else had parted that they both left their reverie. Camille got up as Mark took her glass and began to wipe it. 

"I should probably go now" 

A hint of reluctance was apparent in her tone. Mark felt the same way as he began to feel a desire to have her stay longer. 

'Control yourself, idiot!'

He took a moment to empty his mind, then put on a smile to hide the slight sorrow he felt in her parting. 

"Have a good night, stay safe." 

Camille turned back, her hand still on the open door. A nearby streetlight illuminated her angelic face, her features alight with glistening splendor. 

"You too" 

Mark hesitated for a moment, words stuck on his lips, desperately seeking liberty from his timid mind. 

'Just say it already' 

He felt a sense of bold assertiveness rise, the noise of his pumping heart reaching his ears. It was as if fiery blood coursed through his body, cleansing the skepticism he felt. 

"Please, come again!" 

She responded with a lustrous smile. Everything around her seemed to have been set alight in a luminescent hue as she began to part. 

It took a few moments, or perhaps they were minutes, before calm finally returned to his heart.

He cleaned the bar, sorted everything out, and made sure there was nothing left he had to do. After that, he checked on his boss in the kitchen. It seemed that he was going to stay there for a while. 

While approaching the door he slowed down and came to a halt.

His face slightly flushed before a red hue appeared on it.

He covered his face with one hand.

'I really just said that.'

Closing the wooden door, he left and walked along the dark and desolate street. The searing sensation of shame in his heart fought away the freezing cold of the night.

Though time is what helps wounds heal, the memory of his nearly desperate demand haunted him with every step. 

'Please stop acting like a love-stricken teenager.'

The immaturity in his thoughts felt disgusting. The idea of losing sway over his mind made him feel sick.

If he couldn't dictate his own composure, how would he be able to do the same to others? 

Eventually, his heart settled as he began to feel the biting winds against his face. This night seemed to be exceptionally cold, perhaps it would snow? 

Mark looked up to the sky. It seemed to be less distant than usual, as if fog was about to descend. 

Of course, that could also be smog. 

His mind stopped wandering as his gaze focused, he became more vigilant of his surroundings. At this point, he was far away from the central district- where his bar was. There was much less lighting.

Though he couldn't see it, he knew. 

A figure was approaching him from behind.