Tally shook his head but still looked disappointed. He walked over to the counter, claimed his tea, and drank it with a grimace. Clearly, health benefits did not equal a great taste.
“Sorry,” said Sam. Just because Tally was down on his luck didn’t mean he wasn’t clever or educated. Sam had thought he was above such prejudices. Clearly not.
Tally scowled at him. “You trust that thing more than me.” he said, gesturing dismissively at the phone.
“I don’t know you,” said Sam and winced at his own words. They were overly harsh and he was acting like an overgrown child, sulking because he had been proven wrong.
Blue eyes stared into his. Deep wells of sadness. “You are right. I’m sorry Sam. It’s hard for me to remember that.”
Sam blinked, feeling ashamed. Tally was younger than him and not well, yet he was being more mature, more emotionally intelligent. It was disconcerting.
Suddenly Tally winced, his eyes clouding with discomfort. Sam watched in alarm, wondering if the app had been wrong after all. He pushed that fixation aside. Tally was feeling rough because of the withdrawal.
“I need to go lie down,” said Tally.
Sam watched him go into the bedroom. He knew withdrawal was a bitch. He didn’t want to leave Tally all alone to go through it. Sighing, he started typing on his phone to see if Deirdre could cover the bar.
Chapter 6
Alittlewhilelater,Sam went in to check on Tally and found him curled over the toilet again, looking utterly miserable. Sam winced in sympathy.
He pulled a hair tie from his jeans pocket. His own dark blond ponytail was always coming undone, so he kept spare ties on him all the time. He kneeled by Tally and gently pulled his pink hair back. It was just long enough for a very short stubby tail, but it would keep his hair off of his face.
“Thank you,” murmured Tally weakly.
“No problem. Can I get you anything?”
“Some more tea, please.”
Sam blinked. Tea bags he could handle, but tea from river herbs was beyond him. Tally seemed to sense his hesitation.
“There is mixture left in the mortar bowl. Put a teaspoon full into the teapot, leave for three minutes and then pour out, through the strainer, into a cup.”
Sam didn’t even know he had such things in his kitchen. More of Danny’s purchases, he presumed. The man had been strangely obsessed with kitchenware, for someone who could barely operate a microwave.
But Tally’s instructions seemed simple enough. Sam was confident he could follow them. He could make hundreds of different cocktails, after all.
Determinedly he set off to the kitchen, returning proudly five minutes later with a cup of something that looked remarkably like what Tally had drunk earlier.
“Will it do any good if you can’t keep it down?” he asked.
Tally took the cup and gave him a weak smile. “I only need to keep it down for a few minutes for it to work.”
Sam watched as Tally shivered. Wordlessly, he headed back out of the bathroom and fetched a yellow blanket from the cupboard. He draped it over Tally’s shoulders before settling down to sit on the floor next to him.
“I can get you a bowl and you can get comfy in the bed?” he offered.
Tally vehemently shook his head. “No, it’s going to start coming out the other end in a minute, I need to be in here.”
Sam laughed. “Fair enough.”
He watched Tally sip his tea, the yellow blanket around his shoulders like a cloak and his unruly pink hair tied up unevenly. The sight made him smile. Despite all that and the paleness of his face, he still managed to look stunning. It was unfair.
The silence was companionable, which was good as Sam couldn’t think of anything to say. He listened to the muffled thumping from downstairs as Deirdre and the others opened up the bar. He felt a flash of guilt, but then sternly told himself that he couldn’t remember the last time he had had a night off.
And here he was, spending it on the bathroom floor whilst someone he met yesterday was withdrawing. Sam grinned at himself. At least life wasn’t boring.
“You are so nice.” Tally said softly.
