[SE] Sometimes you need the rain to know you miss the sun

Zavien

Strike hands with me. The glass is brim.
The dew is on the heather.

Grief is a weird thing. It follows Zavien like a shadow, rearing its ugly head when he least expects it. Even after a few weeks, it doesn't feel real. He catches himself planning to tell Lena something later, or having a simple smell rip up a memory of warm laughter or flirty smiles. For a moment, he nearly smiles to himself, leaning into the familiar excitement and affection before the reality pulls the stability out from under him. It steals his breath, stabbing and squeezing his chest until he can't help but freeze, trapped in the grief that consumes him. Only once his eyes refocus and his lungs pull in a tragically present breath is he able to face the world again, the pain of it all hard to ignore until it slowly dulls, preparing to be dug up by the next reminder. 

He recalls the cycle, remembers what it was like when his mom had died. But those memories have faded with time, and each loss holds its own sharpness, a different kind of guilt and regret weighing on his heart. Everything in him wants to hide from the world, to find seclusion where he can wallow and slowly find his own peace again - to discover what the world looks like without Lena in it. However, the leadership that had once been so bright with hope and opportunity has become his shackle and his lifeline, keeping him tethered to society. In some ways, he embraces it, shoving aside the burden of grief for that of responsibility; but he also dreads it, knowing he can't show weakness or falter when the people are relying on him, when it would be so easy to stumble. So he walks carefully, offers what smiles he can until there aren't any eyes to see it fall away. He nods and makes appearances where he's expected to, continuing the work that won't stop even with her gone, knowing she'd been so proud of his new role, knowing she'd want him to take care of the Breakers in her absence. And with the Tower still to be built, Zavien has more work than ever. It's the entire reason he straightens his shoulders and steps into the bar, plans giving his steps purpose when he can't find it otherwise. 

Sol strolls in along his feet, the pep less obvious in his step, even as he tries to hide the worried glances towards his companion or the lower hang of his tail. The golden dragon still scans the space, taking his task as protector quite seriously. His golden gaze zeroes in on the dog tucked under the bar, immediately fighting the urge to make friends, but dutifully remaining at Zavien's side as he approaches the bartender. 

Giving a polite nod and smile of greeting, he leans against the wood. "Gabe. How's business? Got anything for me?" The usual gleam in his eyes is dim, but he forces his shoulders to stay back, his lips to curve up, and his tone to be light when it all feels heavy. The only things he can't hide are the darkness under his eyes or the slightly disheveled lengthening of his hair. Blissfully, Gabe either doesn't notice or doesn't comment on them, smiling in return as he finishes cleaning the glass in his hands. "Pretty good. Customers are slowly starting to return. I've been trying to keep my ears open for workers or contractors, but," the middle-aged man shrugs, the apology clear on his face. 

Zavien tries not to let the news further dampen his mood, tensing his back to keep it from bowing. His head tilts in acceptance, aware that it's not Gabe's fault. He's just been trying to help in the ways he can, and the Zavien can only reward that. 

Pulling a deep breath, he pushes off from the wood. "Well, thank you for keeping up the hard work. I might as well take a drink while I'm here." He smiles again, more encouraging this time as he takes a seat at the bar, willing to suspend his work for the night if it means supporting a local business. The barkeep sets aside his glass, draping the towel over his back with a grin. "Any time, Commander. Let me grab your usual." Then he turns to grab a beer, Zavien taking the moment to breathe, letting the smile falter for a moment before it's slipping back into place to accept the bottle. "Thanks." The alcohol goes down smooth, the swig warming the ache in his chest before he lifts the drink in approval. "Great as always."

Gabe chuckles, dragging the rag from his shoulder to resume cleaning. "Let me know if you need another. That one's on the house." There's a weight to the words along with the look in his eyes, a knowing that has Zavien's throat tightening, the smile thinner when he offers his thanks.

And love is good, and life is long,
and friends are best together.