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It’s a perfect morning - a peaceful one. Sun streams through the window, but a strategically placed tree shades the sleeping couple from being blinded by the brightest rays.
Elide sleeps with all four of Lorcan’s pillows piled beneath her head while the man has made himself comfortable against the flat mattress. The migration happened during the night. She has one of his arms and clutches it like a personal plush, her cheek smushed against his bicep. All is calm until it’s shattered by his ancient alarm.
She whines, most displeased, as Lorcan reaches over to slam the button. “Forgot to turn it off,” he says by way of explanation, still halfway to consciousness.
“Bad alarm, bad, bad alarm,” Elide mumbles. She comes out of her cocoon of blankets and pillows to burrow against him. “What time is it?”
Lorcan strokes her hair. “Early.”
Her face is pressed into his chest; she leaves a kiss above his heart. “Hate early. Must kill early.” As much as she resents the alarm for disturbing their rest, she knows it’s a good thing because otherwise, she would’ve slept the whole day away. “I gotta get up.” Elide slits her eyes open and slowly takes in Lorcan’s apartment. She’s never been able to appraise it from this angle before.
“Why?” His arm tightens around her.
“Work. Bookstore. Buy books for bookstore.”
“I’ll buy you all the books you want if you stay,” Lorcan promises.
“You’d do that anyway,” she grins against his warm brown skin. Despite her words, Elide’s limbs remain immobile. “I need coffee.”
He scratches her head. “You drink too much of that stuff. It’s stuntin your growth.” Elide has no quippy reply for his comment (she’d need coffee for that). “And I don’t have coffee up here, s’all in the diner.”
She makes a noise like she’s crying. “Downstairs? I have to go all the way downstairs?”
Lorcan sighs, “Gimme five minutes, and I’ll get it.”
“Mnh-mnh, big guy, you - stay.” Elide kisses his chest three times before pushing herself up. Her boyfriend looks up at her through slitted eyes, one brow raised in question. She doesn’t usually decline his offer to do something for her if she doesn’t want to. “You deserve lots and lots of rest.”
His confusion melts into a smug smirk as he recalls the previous night. “I mean,” he huffs a small laugh, “half of that was you.”
She smacks him with a pillow, “It was not, and you know it.”
“Maybe I do.” Lorcan has already closed his eyes once more. As she slips out of bed, he asks, “Where’re you goin? Wait, woman.”
But Elide has already buttoned up his flannel over her bare body and scampers over to the door. She goes down to the diner without a worry in the world.
And just as she’s thinking about what she’ll plan for their date tonight, Elide realises that the diner is not, as she assumed, closed and empty. She freezes in the archway like a deer in headlights. The usual breakfast crew is there, all sitting in their normal places. It’s so normal that even Elide’s spot at the bar is empty.
Silence falls over the diner. Somebody’s fork clatters onto their plate. Coffee is choked on.
Without a word, she turns and flees back to Lorcan’s apartment.
She slams his door behind her, much to his chagrin. “Why so loud,” he mutters.
Her cheeks are flaming red as she scurries back to his bed. Elide stands above him with her hands on her hips. “Lorcan.”
He lifts his arm off of his face. His eyes dip to his shirt. “Why’re you wearin that?”
“To go get coffee. Downstairs.”
Lorcan blinks, then rubs his eyes. He sits up, “You- went downstairs to get coffee?”
“Well, you don’t keep any upstairs.”
“The diner’s open.”
Elide opens her mouth in a farce of shock. “No, really?”
He looks down again. “You walked into the diner like that?”
She pulls a face and sits down on the edge of his bed, one leg tucked beneath her. “I didn’t think the diner could open without you.”
“Luca opened for me,” Lorcan points out unhelpfully. He reaches over to rub her thigh supportively.
“Well, he did, with a floor show.” Elide tilts her head as she looks at him, her hand finding his. “I guess everyone knows now.”
Lorcan leans in to give her a small kiss. In an effort to soothe her, though it doesn’t really work, he says cautiously, “I don’t hear a mob after you. Maybe they won’t care.”
“Right. It’ll be town gossip for, what, a week?”
“A few, maybe.”
Elide tips her forehead against his. “In six months, it’ll be old news.”
“You got it, sweetheart.” He lightly bites her pouty bottom lip. “Where’s your coffee?” She gives him a look, and Lorcan nods, “I’m getting your coffee.” With a great big groan, he hauls himself out of bed. In doing so, he leaves a perfectly warm spot for Elide to lie back down in.
“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave,” she croons.
He shakes his head as he dons his daily uniform of baggy jeans, a t-shirt, and yet another flannel from the unending supplier of flannels (his closet).
“Can you get me coffee to go, too? And make it iced, please.”
“The only way I’m gettin you two coffees before seven is with breakfast too.” With his hands on his hips, he stares her down till she concedes, never one to wantonly fuel her coffee dependency.
“Make it a breakfast burrito, and you got a deal.”
“How in the hell did I get rooked into this,” Lorcan grumbles as he locks the diner doors. He sports an impressive glare when he faces Elide.
“Um, I’m irresistible?”
He nods like that’s a given. “Yeah, well, have I mentioned I hate town meetings? It’s an hour of Darrow pushing his fascist control of this town. We’re there to listen to his propaganda.”
“Oh, wow, someone’s peppy tonight.” She slips her hand into the crook of his elbow and tucks herself in tight next to him as they walk across the square. “You usually save the big words for later.”
Lorcan gives her another displeased look.
Elide chuckles. “Will you feel better if I promise we won’t stay for long? Just enough to get the headlines. And,” she reaches into her purse, “I bought chocolate raisins just for you, even though you know I find them to be an abomination - an affront to the very institution of candy.” She shakes the box in front of him till he cracks a grin.
He takes the chocolate raisins happily. “Alright, fine, I’ll behave tonight. But do not get used to me coming to these town meetings. Or any other town gathering for that matter. I won’t go just because you like ‘em.”
She nods sagely, “Other than tonight?”
“Other than tonight,” Lorcan concedes as they walk up the steps into the town hall. He sighs before opening the door to hold it for Elide.
And while she steps in past him, she says, “And next Thursday.”
“No- what the hell is next Thursday? I did not agree to next Thursday.”
“Um, shh,” she gestures to the town meeting they’re ten minutes late to. “Don’t interrupt, baby, it’s rude.” A cheeky grin plays on her lips.
Lorcan tugs on the back of her leather jacket, and Elide ignores it, focussed on finding their seats.
She spots Aelin next to Rowan, who waves them over. “We saved you some,” Aelin stage-whispers as she moves her jacket and purse. “I almost fought Mort, these people are animals.”
Elide thanks her friend and takes her seat. Lorcan nods to Rowan, who offers a commiserating smile (they have similar opinions on the town politicking).
The matter on the floor right now is the recent fender bender between Borte, the town mechanic, and Yeran, her fiancé and business partner. After Lorcan sits, he drapes his arm across the back of Elide’s chair, letting her lean against him. They watch Borte and Yeran reenact the accident. She accuses him of not looking in his mirror before he backed into the street, thus smashing his back end into Borte’s front bumper as she turned the corner.
“I didn’t see you, and I distinctly remember looking into my mirror,” Yeran insists.
“Liar! You did not see me,” Borte argues back. “You came outta that driveway like it was your personal F1 track!”
Lorcan lowers his head to ask Elide. “Did we really come here to watch Borte and Yeran fight, again?”
“That’s not the whole reason,” she says. She holds up a red vine to him. “Hungry?”
He takes the candy, even though he doesn’t really like them. “We’re getting dinner before the movie,” he points out, seeing as Elide has a deep variety of snacks and candy stashed in her purse.
“Uh-huh, I know.”
With a smile, he moves his arm to her neck in an effort to tug her closer and kiss her head. She rests her hand on his thigh, settling in for the show.
Ten minutes later, Darrow puts the issue to a vote. Elide eagerly raises her hand in Borte’s favour (it goes without saying that Lorcan abstains from voting). Unfortunately for Borte, the majority sides with Yeran, and the fender bender issues ends with a decisive strike of Darrow’s gavel. Borte walks back to her seat after making a vaguely threatening gesture to her fiancé.
“Alright, let’s move on to the next order of business,” Darrow peruses his agenda, then raises his brows as he nods, “Ah, yes, well.” He pushes his glasses up, then steeples his hands on the podium, looking over the crowd. “A very serious matter has been brought to our attention.”
In a lowered voice, Lorcan says to Elide. “Who d’you think drew the chalk outline this time?”
She smothers her laughter against his arm, “Shh, Darrow’s gonna kick us out.” The matters are never serious; they have never been serious in the history of Orynth, but damn if they don’t make for the best entertainment.
“I would like to bring to the floor for discussion the possible negative ramifications of the bookstore owner and the diner owner dating.”
Elide and Lorcan sit up straight. She gasps, “That’s us.”
“They’re talking about us.”
Darrow continues over the general hubbub of the audience. “As we’ve all been made aware, the relationship we feared for some time has emerged, and we need to carefully consider whether or not we can support this.”
“Oh, for Anneith’s sake,” Elide exclaims.
Lorcan gestures between the two of them, raising his voice, “Yo, we’re sittin right here.”
“Yes,” Darrow smiles, holding his hand out to Lorcan, “we see you, Lorcan, and as a member of the town, you are welcome to voice your own opinion.”
The man shakes his head, turning to Elide as he speaks, “'Voice my opinion', it’s my—“
Darrow sharply raps his gavel, which makes Lorcan’s eye twitch and a fierce frown come down on his brow. He folds his arms across his chest.
“I open the floor up for discussion.”
“Hey—“
Several hands fly up, some even waving to snatch Darrow’s attention. He shrugs, “Alright, I’ll start.”
Elide rubs Lorcan’s arm to work him off the ledge.
“Lorcan’s diner is a staple in this town,” the selectman starts. “Most of us eat there on a regular basis. The Perranth Book Emporium, though newer than Lorcan’s diner, has also become very important in our community of Orynth.” He uses his hands to gesture things coming together as he makes his next point, “The commingling of the owners of these two establishments can only set the stage for disaster.”
“What is he talking about,” Lorcan grumbles.
“He’s not happy with our commingling,” she giggles.
“I am.”
“Well, why should that matter? Think about the consequences.”
But of course Darrow isn’t finished. “Think of the consequences, people,” he insists, leaning over the podium. “What will happen when the relationship goes sour, as, let’s face it, most of Elide’s relationships have so far?”
“Hey,” Elide speaks up, her eyes darting around the hall as people nod in agreement. Lorcan watches hurt briefly cloud her eyes and thins his lips, settling into his chair as he levels a deadened, violence-promising glare upon Darrow.
“We’ll have to choose. Soon you’ll be a Lorcan or an Elide - you’ll either get to eat or read. And that’s bad for the economy, bad for the town. So,” Darrow raises his hand, “I vote against this.”
“It isn’t a voting matter,” Elide calls out, but her voice is drowned in the crowd.
Philippa cautions, “I think you’re overreacting, Darrow. What’s wrong with a couple youngins in love, huh?”
“People, do I have to remind you about Lithaen and Chaol, huh?”
“Who cares?” Lorcan crows.
“Well, you know, they fell in love - big romance,” Philippa says, and the audience murmurs in agreement.
Darrow nods, “And for a while, it went very well, synergistically. They seemed to match, until Lithaen met Roland.”
“Oof, that was bad,” someone says. “The whole town split right down the middle.”
“Eventually, the hostility forced Lithaen to move.”
“And as for Chaol, well,” Philippa winces, and there’s a general murmur of sorrowful agreement.
Seizing the moment, Darrow capitalises on the town’s unsureness. “Those storefronts remained empty for a year - no one wanted to be there.”
The people sitting beside Lorcan and Elide say something to the tune of ‘maybe he has a point’. He’s seen a lot of insanity (Elide insists it’s just small town quirkiness) in this town, but this is too much. “You people are psychotic, you know that? One day someone’s gonna do a study on you, Darrow.”
The crowd erupts into energetic speech, some voices like Aelin and Fenrys egging the others on, some agreeing with Lorcan that this is absurd and to live and let live, while others take Darrow’s side. He bangs his gavel to restore peace, but it only worsens the cacophony.
Elide’s wincing, holding one hand to her ear, “Ok - this is a little much.” She waves her phone, tilting her head to the door. “I have to call the warehouse.”
Lorcan nods, “Save yourself.”
As she stands, she says, “Don’t take it to heart, it’s just Darrow being Darrow.”
“Uh-huh.”
He won’t listen to her, she knows, and Elide leaves so she can make the call to her wholesale guy. Right now is the only hour she can catch him with the time zone differences.
It’s a short call, only ten minutes, and she thinks foolishly that the whole issue is done with.
All her hopes get dashed the minute she steps foot back inside. In five minutes, Darrow has put out charts and graphs of the town, different sections segregated in either purple dots or black stripes. The general volume rises to incensed chaos as he taps the posters with his retractable telescopic pointer. Elide’s mouth drops open; she looks around in dismay. Now Lorcan will never come to another town meeting.
In the midst of it all, the most shocking thing is that Lorcan is still firmly in his seat. She goes over to him. His elbows brace on his thighs as he bounces his leg up and down.
“-don’t make the northwest of the lake Elide’s spot,” Mme Florine announces with a resounding slam of her cane. “Everyone knows that’s where Lorcan fishes.”
Elide mutely realises these are charts of the town in the event of their breakup. The purple dots represent her proposed areas, the black stripes Lorcan’s. She dumbly sits back down as Mme Florine and Brullo start shouting at each other across the hall.
Before she can say a word or even think about something to say, Lorcan is up on his feet. “Alright, I’m done with this,” he announces, his voice booming over the others. He stalks up to Darrow’s podium. “This relationship is mine.” Lorcan rips the charts off their stands, sending them to the town hall floor. He points at Darrow, “Not yours.” He turns around and speaks to the crowd. “Not yours, not yours, not yours,” he sees Elide and specifies, “yours, and no one else’s.” Gesturing between him and Elide, Lorcan repeats, “Ours, and no one else’s. There’s not going to be a vote, and it’s not going to be a matter for the town hall on whether or not I get to be in a relationship with Elide, because we are in a relationship.”
Elide grins, big and cheesy.
Darrow sputters, “But- in the event of a breakup—“
“There’s not going to be a breakup,” Lorcan snaps.
In the crowd, Borte heckles, “Isn’t he the optimistic fellow?”
He rounds on her, his jaw tight enough to crack a molar. “Fine. If - if - Elide and I ever break up, I will close my diner, and I will move far, far away to a place where they’re never heard of Orynth, and you will never hear from me again. Happy? Every section can be purple polka dots.”
“Are you willing to sign an agreement that attests to that,” Darrow leans over the podium.
“Sure, and then I’ll wipe my ass with whatever you write that down on,” Lorcan promises.
“There’s no need to be crass,” Darrow tuts his tongue. He turns to one of the council people. “Get that down, and keep our notes far away from him.” Addressing the assembly, Darrow bangs his gavel again, “The issue of Lochan and Salvaterre versus Orynth has been resolved. Meeting adjourned, and we’ll see you all next week!”
Everyone stands, still in a tizzy about the new developments and Lorcan’s outburst (his stoic reputation far outweighs that of his temper, and he’s not known for public displays of anything really). He puts the boards to the side, and when he turns, Elide is standing there as she bounces on her toes. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He bends down to kiss her cheek. He feels a little embarrassed about his outburst now. “Uh, sorry about-“ he gestures at the boards, “that whole… show. I know you like these meetings an’ stuff, I just—“
She tugs him down and cuts him off with a kiss, catching him off guard. The balance is off, but before she can fall flat on her ass, Lorcan catches her around her waist to keep her upright. When they break apart, they don’t go far.
“You should defend my honour in public more often.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You’d really move away if we broke up?”
He cracks a grin, “But there’s not going to be a break up.”
She nods, “Right you are.”