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It wasn’t uncommon to see the Head of the Oak’s Family, Sunday, at the Dreamjolt Hostelry. In fact, the patrons have frequently seen him at the bar that they treat it like another Tuesday.
The reason why he frequents the bar?
Well… some could say Sunday is looking for a certain lone hound.
“What do you think they’ll argue about today?” a man asked his friend, giggling to himself in anticipation.
“Oh! Oh! Lemme make a bet, it’ll be about some type of minuscule problem that irritated him.”
“Nahhh that was two days ago. I’m going to say he’s just here for a drink, made specifically from Gallagher.” The patron said, raising a glass and giving a knowing wink.
“Shh Shh he’ll be here any moment!”
Just as the words left his mouth, the door slammed open, “Gallagher!” Sunday seethed through his teeth.
Gallagher, who was tending to a guest’s order, snapped his head up. “WHAT?”
Sunday stomped over, “I told you not to send me irrelevant documents related to combative crimes to me.” He raised a semi thick packet. “ESPECIALLY-” He flipped the pages in front of Gallagher’s face, “WHEN IT IS MOSTLY FILLED WITH GRAMMATICAL ERRORS AND DOODLES.” Sunday slammed the packet down, taking a seat in front of Gallagher.
The brown haired man resisted the urge to chuckle, biting down his lips from bursting into a laugh.
The patrons around smiled, enjoying the spectacle. It seems every time Sunday arrives there is always ALWAYS a complaint. If not a complaint, then just the presence of Gallagher seems to put him in a pleasant mood. The patrons have begun looking forward to Sunday’s presence.
“Am I a joke to you?” Sunday glared at Gallagher. The muscular man listened, whirling around the bar to concoct a drink, the mischievous twinkle never left his eyes. “You? A joke? Never to me, birdie.” Gallagher replied, batting his eyes innocently.
Someone choked on their drink, trying to decide whether to burst out laughing or die trying NOT to laugh. Sunday’s face scrunched up in disgust.
Sunday whirled around to the nosy patrons. “You think this is funny!? What are we!? Spectacle to you!? Scram!” Sunday yelled, giving a pointed look to different patrons around the bar. Suddenly everyone was very interested in their empty glass, looking at everything that isn’t a Sunday or Gallagher, but that does not prevent their ears from peaking in curiosity.
“Now, now Mr. Sunday. Don’t raise your voice at the bar. The only reason why they are listening in is because you are so loud!” Gallagher said, shaking his head in feigning disapproval. He finished mixing the drink, putting on the last decorative decor, and slid it to Sunday.
With a huff, Sunday settled down and accepted the drink. A moment of silence passed between the two. One drinking in silence and the other idly wiping glasses with his attention towards the Halovian.
“What?” Sunday asked.
“Huh?” Gallagher stopped wiping, to fully look at Sunday. Well he got caught, might as well fully commit to it.
“Don’t ‘huh’ me. You’re staring. Again.” Sunday said as a matter of fact. Finishing his drink, he placed both arms on the table, leaning his head atop of them. Golden eyes meeting red eyes. “What are you thinking about?” He probed, offering a small smile.
Gallagher put down the glass. “I would’ve assumed you needed an excuse to see me.” Gallagher replied, leaning an arm against the bar counter. He gave a sly smile, making Sunday turn away from his gaze.
Sunday felt his face warm up, from the alcohol or some unknown feeling (oooohh we may never know), he hid his face behind his wings, golden eyes darting away to avoid red eyes, “Who would want to see you? You crass-”
“Crass?” Gallagher repeated pouting. He put a hand to his chest, pretending to be in pain and heartbroken. “After all these free drinks and my free advice, you call me crass.” He faked a cry.
“Coulda called me handsome and amazing.” Then mimicking Sunday’s voice, “Oh Gallagher, you hardworking hound. Always doing your duties so diligently-”
“Oh Gallagher, my hardworking hound. Always doing your duties so diligently, you truly are loyal with no bounds. If not for your unruly appearance, I wonder how I can make you mine.” Sunday improvised, his voice in a high pitch and giving an exaggerated sigh at the end. “Haha, just kidding.” Sunday stood up and smoothed out his suit, fixing the cuff of his sleeves
Tilting the head down and offering a smile, he gave a polite bow. “Thank you for the drink, Mr. Gallagher. Have a good night and may we see each other soon.”
The entire time Gallagher’s eyes widened and was stunned speechless. His eyes followed Sunday in disbelief as the Halovian left, not without giving a teasing wave before the door closed behind him.
The entire bar was silent, the most silent it’s been since Siobhan threatened to stop alcohol orders if they didn’t quiet down.
Someone called out, “So when’s the wedding, Gallagher?” and the whole bar bursted out laughing.
“Ohhhh shut up” Gallagher mumbled, venting his embarrassment on the shot glass he was cleaning.
Back in his office, Sunday found himself unable to focus on the documents laid in front of him. He fiddled with his quill and kept looking everywhere else that isn’t his paperwork. Remembering Gallagher’s flustered appearance, Sunday felt an irrepressible smile form on his face. He felt giddy inside, like a bubble swelling up and about to burst in his chest.
A knock on a door could be heard and Sunday had to quickly pinch himself to remind himself of his role. He cleared his throat. “Come in,” he said, resuming his work.
Robin’s head popped in, a bright smile plastered across her face. “Brother” she called out excitedly. She entered the room, practically buzzing with joy. In her hand, held a basket.
Upon hearing the voice, Sunday looked up with glee. It seems he doesn’t need to resume his stoic facade. He stood up from his desk, moving to greet his sister with a hug. “Robin! You didn’t tell me you were back on Penacony. I would’ve sent someone to escort you.”
“Hahaha, I wanted to surprise you! Look, I even brought some desserts from my previous tour.” She walked over to the large round table, setting the basket down and pulling two chairs together. She sat down on one side and eagerly patted the other seat, telling Sunday to accompany her. Sunday complied, watching Robin take out various sweets from within the basket with a wide smile on his face.
It's always a pleasure to see Robin, especially since it’s so rare for her to visit him. Every reunion, letter, call, and voice message is a memory to be cherished.
“How have you been, brother?” Robin asked. It's always a question she asks. Always making sure he isn’t working too hard and to make sure that he is taking care of himself. Even though deep down, she knows he isn’t taking care of himself. She handed a slice of strawberry cake to Sunday, which he happily took.
“The same” Sunday replied. Always the same reply. Always doing paperwork, organizing events, attending meetings, entertaining guests, maintaining order, work, work, work, work, work. He smiled bitterly.
“I heard you’re visiting a place quite frequently as of recently.” Robin said ominously. “Dreamjoly Hostelry…Is someone bothering you there?” Her gentle face turned into an angry pout. “If so, just let me know and I’ll-”
Sunday waved his hands, “No no, I just like the atmosphere there.” He felt his face heat up at the mention of the bar… a certain someone attached to it. His wings unconsciously covered his flushed face as he looked away.
It doesn't take Robin long to put two and two together, after all it's her brother. She gasped, covering her mouth with awe “Oh my Aeons. Who is it?” Her eyes practically glittered at the thought of someone catching Sunday’s eyes.
There’s no point in hiding it now, Sunday sighed in defeat. Sheepishly he held a gaze at Robin, who eagerly looked back at him. “It’s the bartender at Dreamjolt Hostelry. He’s also a security guard working under the Bloodhound Family. His name is Gallagher.”
Robin listened, giving a small nod, as if telling Sunday to continue.
“To be honest, there’s nothing special about him. He always dresses in an unruly style. His hair is always uncombed, stubbed beard that isn’t shaved, even his clothes are in disarray. I can even see his half tucked shirt and askew tie. Nothing about this man is symmetrical and proper.” Sunday huffed in annoyance, his wings puffed out as he gave an angry pout. He could practically see Gallagher standing in front of him, teasing him, mocking him, and smelling like cigar smoke. Sunday mentally rolled his eyes, but despite those banters, Gallagher would always give his full attention to Sunday. Listening to his words and offering sincere advice.
Sunday slowed down his rant. His chest rapidly paced in chest, threatening to beat out if you continued to think about the hound.
Robin silently listened as Sunday talked, a faint smile on her lips. It's rare to see Sunday so expressive. He’s always hiding himself behind a mask, always tending to someone else that isn’t himself. Even when they meet-up, it is always Robin talking, always keeping the conversation going with Sunday giving small replies and minute reactions.
She held Sunday’s hands in her, the man looking back at her in confusion and a bit absent. “Brother, I think you are in love.” she simply said, tenderness in her eyes as she looked at him. “Have you told him that?”
“No. It’s not guaranteed that he would like me back.” Sunday said mutely, doubt building up in his chest.
“It doesn’t hurt to try right?”
“...”
“Hey Robin?”
“Hm?’
“Thank you.”
“Of course, brother.”
The conversation with Robin had lifted a small burden off his shoulder. At least someone supports him and greatly encourages him. Sunday exhaled a heavy breath.
The next day, Sunday entered his office only to see Robin sitting at his desk looking over some of his documents. Upon hearing the door open, she gave an ecstatic wave as Sunday walked towards her. “Robin, what are you doing here?”
“I’ve asked your assistant what is on your schedule today and they told me that it is mostly meetings. Soooo” she drummed her fingers on the desk. “I’ve decided to do the meetings in your place today.”
“Absolutely not.” Sunday said, crossing his arms with a frown.
Robin looked at him with defiance “Are you doubting my abilities?”
“Well.. no, but you shouldn’t be doing these types of mundane work. Go to Golden Hour, be free, go explore, do some shopping, meet some new people. Enjoy yourself.”
Robin held up a finger and wagged it, “No, you ‘Go to Golden Hour, be free, go explore, do some shopping, meet some new people, and enjoy yourself’ or rather go enjoy this day off and perhaps see a certain someone.” She gave a knowing wink at the ending phrase.
“Take this as a free day for yourself. You are always caring about others, but for once let me care about my older brother. If you don’t, I’ll be sad.” She gave him a dejecting look.
Sunday closed his eyes before sighing, “Fine. Just for today though. If you need any help, please please please do not hesitate to let me know.”
“Don’t worry brother, I won’t.”
Sunday hasn’t walked through Golden Hour in a while. As he walked around, he admired the hustle and bustle of the area. Cars making their way down the streets, the loud echoing clamour of the crowds, the faint music that played in the atmosphere, and the blinding spotlights that brightened the city. Sunday used tuning and disguised himself as an Intellitron, as he walked.
As he wandered the streets, he saw a familiar figure standing in front of a store window with a concentrated look on his face. Excitement took hold of him at the sight of Gallagher. It isn’t everyday where they see each other outside of the bar.
Upon seeing Gallagher’s familiar silhouette, Sunday raised an arm, a bright smile on his face. “Galla-” He began to call out, but stopped when a tall blond female Halovian tapped Gallagher’s shoulder.
Gallagher looked over his shoulder, his blank stare morphed into a beaming smile once we recognized the person. The two engaged in a conversation. Most involved with laughs and frequent hand gestures.
Sunday observed Gallagher’s facial expression, it was filled with fondness and nostalgia. He felt himself falter, his raised arm slackened to his side and the smile fell into a pursed lips.
“Oh he has someone in his heart already.” Sunday bitterly thought. “Perhaps all the teasing has simply been teasing. I overthought everything.” Sunday felt his heart shatter a little, a gaping hole gnawed away in his chest. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes and looked up to prevent them from falling.
“Come on Sunday, you are better than this.” He took a breath in, exhaling a shaky breath. “How could you allow your emotions to dictate your rationales?” He scolded himself. The Halovian watched as the two walked over to a nearby bench to continue their conversation. “I knew it was too good to be true.” With that he slipped away, left alone to deal with his inner turmoil.
Turning around, Gallagher’s eyes lit up in pleasant surprise when he discovered Siobhan standing next to him. “Oh Siobhan! Never thought I would have the pleasure of seeing you here.” Gallagher laughed.
“Oh please” the Halovian waved dismissively. “I don’t eat, sleep, or live at Dreamjolt Hostelry ya know.” she joked.
“Seeing how often you are there I would've assumed otherwise.” Gallagher cheekily replied, crossing his arms in front of him.
Siobhan rolled her eyes. She pointed towards the bench, signaling that they should sit and chat. “What brings you here?” she asked.
“Ahhh, how do I describe this?” Gallagher awkwardly scratched his stubble, eyes closed as if embarrassed.
“Just spill it.”
“I want to get a gift for someone.” he said quietly.
“Wow, must be someone important if you are making a purchase here.” Siobhan raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “Someone caught your heart?”
“...Perhaps.” Gallagher said, his eyes looked at something that wasn’t there.
“Oh my…it seems our mixologist isn’t as heartless and lonely as he seems to be.” She gave a pause. “Tell me about them.” she said softly, as if coaxing him to speak out his thoughts.
Gallagher gave a soft snort, then proceeded to spill Sunday’s annoying personality. “Lemme tell ya, he’s a real feisty one. Always reprimanding me and my appearance. He appears to be a saint to the people, providing guidance and uploading authority for those who are suffering. But once you offend him he’ll stop at nothing to take you down.”
Then in a gentler tone he continued, “However it is a lonely path ahead. He puts others over himself, knowing everything is false but for the sake of the people, he will continue to pretend. He’s just someone who genuinely wants to help the common people. He got himself trapped by those of higher authority and around him. He feels neither joy nor satisfaction in what he does.” Gallagher sighed. Siobhan fell silent, but rested a hand on his shoulder as if reassuring him.
“Make sure you tell this lover of yours, just how much you appreciate and love him, okay?”
Gallagher nodded, “Thank you Siobhan.”
In the end Gallagher selected a small golden brooch. The brooch was shaped like an eye with an iris sapphire center piece encased in golden canthus.
Gallagher prepped the brooch in a small jewelry box inside his breast pocket. His heart raced with anticipation as he wondered how he would ask Sunday out on a date. Would the birdie be happy? Scoff in disgust but nevertheless accept the present? Be frozen with shock? He gave a wide smile at his wild imagination.
Around him the patrons were once again being rowdy, putting bets on Sunday’s appearance and the things he would say and do. Frankly, Gallagher would bet too, but the wins would always be in his favor.
As the doors opened to the man himself, the parlor hushed with anticipation. As usual Sunday sat in his seat, but the man lacked his usual flair. He mostly kept to himself and didn’t bother to raise his voice. Gallagher turned around and was met with Sunday’s downcasted expression. Maybe not today he decided with a small sigh to himself.
Gallagher mixed the normal drink for Sunday, but the man barely looked at it. Simply stating his business and leaving. His actions left Gallagher and all the patrons bewildered and shocked. They looked at each other quizzically, before assuming that the man was overworked and did not want to entertain them today. They brushed it off, bringing back their normal joy and cheers. But Gallagher did not share the same sentiment.
Sunday has been acting weird as if recently. He rarely frequents the bar, only coming in once a week to correct Gallagher on his documents. Gallagher would of course fire back teasingly, but
Sunday’s words and insults lack their regular flare. He even hesitates to accept Gallagher’s free drinks, staring into the liquid as if it has done him wrong.
When Gallagher tried probing into the man’s sudden change in attitude, Sunday simply stared at him with guilt and sadness. He avoids eye contacts and changes the subject to something more professional.
Did I do something wrong? Gallagher thought to himself when the birdie left early after attending his business. But what did I do wrong? Gallagher thought and thought but was unable to come to a conclusion.
“Hey Gallagher, I need you to give some documents to Sunday Oaks of the Oaks Family.” An officer handed a thick yellow envelope to Gallagher. “We need his signature today for an event. Do you know where his office is? It's at-”
“Yes yes I know where it is.” Gallagher stifled a yawn, grabbing the envelope and waving it around as he left. Gallagher took slow strides to the pavilion, as if taking his time towards the inevitable.
As Gallagher reached the halls of Dawnlight Pavilion, the attendant informed him that Sunday was in his office. Thanking the man, Gallagher made his way up the thin stairs.
He stood in front of the large wooden doors hesitantly, his arms opening and closing as if wondering how he should announce his presence. It’s been two weeks since he last saw Sunday. The Halovian made no attempt at contacting him. Perhaps he had grown tired of Gallagher’s company. The man felt his heart sink a little thinking about that possibility.
Steeling himself, Gallagher knocked on the door thrice. No response. He knocked again with a heavier tone. Met with silence again.
Strange, the attendant said Sunday was in his office.
With curiosity, Gallagher pushed open the door and poked his head in. At the sight of what was inside the room, Gallagher fully shoved open the door in disbelief.
Two figures stood at the center of the room facing each other with intimacy. One man was obviously Sunday from the floating halo and wings that sprouted from behind his ears, but the other man was of unknown identity.
The man’s arm was wrapped around Sunday’s waist.
Gallagher immediately glared at the man, his ruby eyes burning a hole through the man’s figure. Who is this nobody touching his treasure!??
Seeing someone enter the room, the man turned to look at the uninvited guest. “Oh my! Oh my! Who is this?” He asked out loud.
Sunday looked uncomfortable throughout the whole ordeal, but relaxed at the sight of Gallagher.
He released himself from the man’s grasp, standing off to the side. “This is Gallagher, a security officer of the Bloodhound Family.” Sunday introduced in a clear tone.
“A security officer? Oh my! So rude that he just enters without knocking! Oh my! This lapdog lacks manners!” The man commented, rolling his eyes at Gallagher’s direction. He even scrunched his face in disgust as he looked at him up and down.
Sunday frowned at the man’s choice of words, ‘Sir, it's rude to-” but was cut off when the man interrupted him “No need to defend him Mr. Oaks, you are much too nice to those who are beneath us.” He shooed Gallagher away, “Sir, just leave whatever business you have and leave the two of us to our private moment. You are interrupting our precious time.”
The man pulls out one of Sunday's hand giving it a kiss and Gallagher physically grimaces at the scene. Sunday stood still, neither retracting his hand nor reciprocating the attention.
Gallagher stood still at the scene unfolding before him. Was the reason why he looked so crescentfallen was because he already loves someone else and didn’t want him to know? Gallagher was conflicted. He looked down on the ground, heaving a heavy sigh that pressed against his lungs. The pocketed brooch weighed heavily in his pocket.
Gallagher looked up to meet Sunday’s eyes, his face written with betrayal as Sunday looked back with widened eyes. Sunday opened his mouth as if wanting to speak, but Gallagher promptly dropped off the documents, muttering for Sunday to sign certain pages. The man was hesitant but did as he was told, he opened his mouth again but Gallagher turned away wanting to ignore anything and everything that came out of his mouth.
He left without a word, heart shredded and torn to pieces. The brooch reminding him of his unreciprocated feelings.
A knock from the door aroused Sunday from his deep concentration of reading reports. He looked up confused, not recalling any guests or meetings scheduled for the day.
Before Sunday could say anything, a man opened the door and casually strolled in. His heavy footsteps echoing loudly through the office walls.
Baffled by his behavior, Sunday gave a tight smile, asking if the man needed him for something.
The man loudly introduced himself, face smug like his name meant something important.
Sunday was silent and confused at first, looking at the man with furrowed eyebrows. He mentally combed through his memories until he managed to come up with a single name that matched the name the man introduced himself as.
The man was in charge of a loan business. But recently it fell out due to a massive scandal.
Even after losing massive reputation and wealth, the man remained prideful and arrogant, picking fights with locals on the streets and causing havoc. He attends parties uninvited, trying to warm up to people and get them to lend him wealth. Basically this man was a walking joke.
The man walked up to Sunday’s desk while talking about pointless stuff that Sunday didn’t even bother listening to. His fake patient smile plastered across his face, while his eyes and mind traveled elsewhere that isn’t in the room.
Upon seeing Sunday's bored expression, the man leaned across the desk invading Sunday’s personal space. “Mr. Oaks, are you listening to me?” He asked, hands placed heavily against the desk, pushing aside the neat stack of papers.
Sunday blinked back to the present, clearing his throat and straightening out the creases of his suit. “Oh, mhm” he said uncommittedly.
The man frowned, since talking flattery won’t work, then he would need to use physical touch. He went behind the desk, wrapping an arm around Sunday’s waist forcing them to face each other. Normally girls would faint from such actions. After all, he was a good looking guy, right? That's what his mom tells him.
But Sunday physically tensed at the man’s sudden action. Scowling, he was about to tell the man off when the door suddenly opened.
It was Gallagher.
Sunday took a deep breath of relief at the sight of Gallagher’s broad figure, glad that the man always appears when he needs him the most.
But the other man looked hurt and seemed somewhat sad. Sunday was about to ask what's the matter when the man began to speak up rudely belittling Gallagher with no filter or restraint. Sunday was immediately irked by this man’s choice of words.
He was about to lecture him when the man took one of Sunday’s hand and kissed it. Sunday stood still. Frozen from bewilderment and disgust. He wanted to wrench his hand away, but it was held firmly in the grasp of the man.
Gallagher stood at the doorway seemingly in a similar position.
In a beat, Gallagher composed himself. Eyes darkening and avoidant, he asked Sunday to sign some documents. Sunday obliged with much desperation to appease and comfort Gallagher in the presence of an unwanted figure.
After signing the document, Sunday wanted to reach out to grasp Gallagher’s sleeve, but the man retracted his arm too fast. Turning away and leaving the room without looking back once.
Sunday felt his guts twist. But the feeling was replaced with irritation and frustration when the man began to tsk in annoyance.
“Sir, would you please BE QUIET.” His voice loudly echoed in the chambers. His turned to glare at the man, golden eyes seemed to glow with restraint displeasure.
The man stepped back in mild fear. He had heard that Sunday could be cruel sometimes, but never thought he would be the one on the receiving end. He stammered trying to appease the angry Halovian but to no avail.
“Sir, please kindly leave. And never come back to Penacony.” He warned.
Sunday hastily walked to the Dreamjolt Hostelry. As he slammed the door open, eyes turned towards his direction but he didn’t pay any mind.
Gallagher had his back towards him, scrubbing away glass cups again. Not once did he turn around to address the Halovian. Sunday moved toward his normal seat, the chair scrapping loudly against the floor. He sat down and didn’t say anything. In fact, neither of them said anything.
Sunday continued to stare at Gallagher’s back, finger drawing in repeated circles on the smooth counter and Gallagher continued to shift his attention towards the cup, scrubbing the same place.
The entire bar can feel their tense and strained emotions. They weren’t lively, instead muttering in hushed tones with each other as they looked at the two with worried and sorrowful expressions.
“Did they have a serious fight?” One asked with genuine concern, he quickly glanced up then back down to his cup.
“Did my ship break up without being together?” One whispered.
“My parents are divorcing and they weren’t married to each other!” Another cried.
“Alrighty, I’ve heard and seen enough.” A loud voice spoke over the whispers. Siobhan came out from the back doors, hands resting on her hips as she tilted her head with a deadpan look on her face.
Sunday looks over and sees the familiar Halovian that was with Gallagher previously. His shoulder sank and his wings drooped in depression.
“Excuse me. I need you two boys to leave the bar. You are disturbing the other patrons.” She took Gallagher by the scruff of his collar and Sunday by the arm as she escorted the two out.
“You two needa talk to each other.” She gave a pointed stare at the two men. “And-” she pointed to each one of them “don’t come back until you get this all sorted out.” With that she slammed the door shut behind her, giving another glare through the window panel.
The two stood next to each other awkwardly outside. They stared off into the open space, unsure of what to say. They shuffled in their place, signing heavily, and fiddled about themselves.
Then Gallagher broke the suffocating air. “I didn’t know you had a partner” he said, voice warped with collected phlegm. He cleared his throat.
Sunday blinked with confusion. Then he sat up straight in wild bafflement. “Uh, can you repeat that?” He asked with uncertainty, making sure he heard Gallagher right.
Gallagher scoffed. “Look I didn’t know you had someone in your heart already.” He sighed deeply, covering his eyes with a hand in defeat.
“But…I thought you… had a partner already.”
Now it was Gallagher’s turn to be confused. He stared at Sunday with a scrunched up face, Sunday looking at him with equal amount of bafflement.
“What.”
Sunday felt awkward. Really awkward. But he explained himself. “That tall Halovian woman with short blonde hair before.. Isn’t she your girlfriend?” He held a hand up, “Actually I saw you with her several weeks ago window shopping together. You seemed so happy to be with her the other day.”
Gallagher gave a loud laugh, “Siobhan? Nah, she’s a good friend and co-worker. She’s actually the boss of the Dreamjolt Hostelry.”
Sunday parted his mouth in disbelief. Then felt his face warm up, embarrassed by his assumptions and wild imagination. He hid himself behind his wings.
Seeing Sunday’s flustered state, Gallagher couldn’t resist patting Sunday’s head, chuckling to himself. He stopped to raise an eyebrow, “Since you looked confused at my earlier statement, I will also assume that my assumption was wrong too.”
Recalling that nobody, Sunday’s mood soured a little. “A miserable man who thinks flattery will get him anywhere in the world. It would work on those who are brainless enough, but not me.”
“Besides, he had the audacity to invade MY personal space and insult YOU. I had to kick him out of Penacony.” He grumbled to himself, recalling the chilling feeling of that man’s arm around his waist and the bitter taste in his mouth after he fired off at Gallagher.
Gallagher gave a shy side smile, before clapping his hands together in sudden realization. “Oh ya I wanted to give you this for a while.” Gallagher reached into his pocket and pulled out a small blue jewelry box. He gently placed it in Sunday’s open hands. “I couldn’t because you were avoiding me before. I thought I did something to offend you.”
Sunday cleared his throat, “Well at least we got the misconception out of the way.” He opened the box to reveal the brooch. Eyes glittering in adoration, Sunday clasped the brooch close to his chest. He stayed quiet for a moment, fully embracing the bouncing joy inside his chest. “It's beautiful. I love it.” he whispered.
“This is what I was looking at before at the window. It reminded me of you so I-” Gallagher was cut off when Sunday suddenly leaned in sealing his mouth with a kiss.
Gallagher’s eyes widened but he didn’t push away, instead closing the gap further and deepening the kiss.
“I love you, hound.” Sunday said breathlessly. He leaned in for a quick kiss again.
“Right back at you, birdie.”
From inside the bar, Siobhan gave a gentle smile as she sees two familiar silhouettes embrace each other through the window panels. She scoffed in light amusement to herself. See it wasn't hard, they just needed a moment to themselves. She closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them with a mirthful look in her eyes. “All right boys” Siobhan announced loudly to all the patrons, she slapped a hand on the counter, “You each owe me 200 credits!” The bar exploded in playful protests and laughter.
Outside, Sunday and Gallagher continued to accompany each other, laughing lightly at the rambunctious cries of the patrons.