Scribbles and Drabbles

Notebook Drabble 40

Pierce was a ghost. Not literally, but in almost all other ways. He preferred it like. With his bloodline, not being noticed was a blessing. Only he knew very well that it wouldn't last forever. He could only do his best to avoid fate. So. He was human in a supernatural bar. Every day he sat in the same place and waited for the witching hour to be over before heading home. He worked at home, went to as few meetings as possible and did his best to stay under the radar. 

He wasn't the only one who did it. A few other marked humans went too. The bar was safe-ish. The supernaturals were the type who understood the desire not to be bothered.  So, the humans kept to their places, and the supernaturals kept anyone from trying to kick them out. 

There was nothing particularly different about that day. No hints or chills down his back to suspect fate was beginning to tug on his strings. Only a shiver as a familiar voice filled the bar. Pierce curled his fingers around his beer and closed his eyes. He exhaled and curled over, not wanting anything to do with that.

No such luck. 

A hand pressed to his back. He glanced over his shoulder to see just who was brave enough to walk over. His neighbour stood up, hand on Pierce's shoulder protectively, ready to intervene. They didn't like it when people targeted pet humans. 

"Long time no see," Pierce nodded, taking another swing of his beer. 

Asher didn't reply.  Deep-set orange eyes glared at him fiercely. In the background, some of the others were having a heated conversation with someone. Pierce didn't miss how the other bar members were beginning to shift. This wasn't good. The bar rang with an urge to go to war against the strangers. His neighbour turned guard and brushed Asher's hand off his back. The orange eyes flashed, and Pierce caught his hand before it could slap his friend

"Easy," Pierce warned, nodding up at the signs. "Neutral zone. No fighting."

Asher nodded, but the anger in his eyes did not fade. Pierce let go of Asher's wrist and shifted over slightly. Asher took the invitation and slid into the non-existence space on Pierce's chair, leaning against Pierce. Pierce looked at his companion with a smile, not a happy one but a smile. The man nodded and settled down again. The fur on his hands faded back into the skin. Pierce turned back from the argument, wanting no part. Asher's arm was wrapped against his waist, and his head was on his shoulder. 

"Dan? Do you have any decent wine?" Pierce asked the barkeeper, the man having materialised in front of him. Green energy sparked from the black man's eyes, and he nodded. A glass appeared, and the bottle was shown to Asher. Asher took it hesitantly but nodded. During this, one of the guards grabbed the loudest person and started to drag them out of the bar.

Pierce dumped some coins on the bar, and Dan shook his head. "You're not leaving," he warned, pushing the coins back to him.  

"I have to, it's getting late," Pierce nodded at the time. "Last train and all that." 

"You have past in town," someone grumbled from the side. "Until that's checked out, you're not leaving."  

A/N: Short, i know but I really like the concept but not sure where to go forward with it.