When Stars Align || G. Lafayette

Chapter 2

Ah, the good old days where I didn't know how to write relationship development

good luck reading this one without cringing
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I tucked the old paper back in between the pages of my journal, wondering what Père would say if he could see me now. I like to think that he would be proud. After all, I am following in his footsteps.

Dwelling on my father's memory only made me feel worse, so I decided to take my mind off of it. I hid my journal in my trunk under my spare clothing and tucked it under my bed.

I slid my shoes back on and walked through the dark night towards the bright, cheery pub just up ahead. I walked in and immediately was hit by the noise. Men were all around me, drunk and yelling happily. The excited atmosphere lifted my spirits in the slightest as I took a seat at the bar.

"Hello there," a booming voice said as a man took a seat next to me. I winced, though I knew that I would attract attention. The only lady in the revolution.

"Now who might this be?" he placed his large hand on my shoulder.

"Y/N Legrand," I answered his question with a sigh, "and you are?"

"Hercules Mulligan at your service," he introduced himself.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

"You are trying to get me drunk, Mulligan?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What would you say if I was?" he asked with a smirk.

"That you need to find a lady who cannot 'old 'er alcohol," I answered as he ordered me a whiskey. He smiled at my answer. The bartender poured us two whiskeys almost instantly.

"Herc! Come back over here!" a man who I assumed was one of his friends called from across the room.

"Join me?" he offered me his arm.

"I suppose," I agreed with an uncertain smile. We walked together to where his friends were.

"Ooh Mulligan, you got yourself a lady," one of his friends said. He had black hair slicked back to his neck. I mentally referred to him as Hair.

"No, he did not," I released his arm with a grimace.

"Then you're available?" another of the men wiggled his eyebrows at me. He had long brown curly hair tied into a ponytail and his face was dotted with freckles. He became Freckles in my mind.

"Is my availability the only thing you know to speak of?" I asked with a stone cold glare.

"And she has an accent too," Hair said to Freckles with a nod, "French, I'm guessing?"

I just nodded, unsure of whether to keep speaking with these men.

"Now what might a lady such as yourself be doing in the army?" Mulligan asked.

"What everyone does in an army. Fight," I responded flatly.

"You're gonna fight?" Freckles asked with a stifled laugh.

"Need I make myself clearer? I was 'oping you would not be quite so stupid as to not understand a statement," I said coldly.

"You don't exactly look the fighting type," Freckles laughed and his friend who had not yet spoken turned to him and gave him a look of disdain.

"Looks can be deceiving. For instance, you look a decent person, but upon closer inspection, you are an ass," I retorted.

"We got ourselves a feisty one," Mulligan said with a laugh. I had a feeling that he and Freckles were drunk.