Despair of an imaginary presence

      “Checkmate!”       Einar exclaimed victoriously, clearly succumbing to excitement, moving the queen.       “It’s been a long time since I’ve had such an interesting game.”       Nemi smiled, pursing her lips in slight annoyance. The first game ended in a draw, and this one ended in her defeat. Einar played skilfully, but it’s always unpleasant to lose.       “I haven’t played with anyone for a long time, except the butler maybe. Usually, when I have a free minute, I play well-known games by myself, trying to find workarounds.”       “Then it’s clear why you play so well. I’ve never had the perseverance to sort out other people’s matches.”       “Did someone teach you?”       “Dad when I was little. I used to play with him a lot until I left for the Academy.”       “You have a good father, Nemi.”       “Yes,” she smiled.       Nemi hadn’t been home in Azumashiyo for a long time and didn’t know when she would have free time to visit her parents. Almost immediately after graduation, she had to move to Iparraldeco so that someone else wouldn’t take her place in Iparsis. There was only hope for the New Year holidays.       “What time is it?”       Nemi looked around, trying to find the clock, but there was none in the room. Einar looked at his wristwatch.       “Ten minutes past seven.”       “Damn…” Nemi got up from the table. “…I’ll be quick.”       She left Einar’s room, went into her own, took a plate of pills out of her bag and quickly went down to the kitchen to get some water.       “Warfarin?”       Einar came into the kitchen when Nemi was already washing down the pill with water. She turned around and put the glass down on the counter.       “Anticoagulant.”       He just raised an eyebrow, waiting for the continuation, because the word “anticoagulant” meant absolutely nothing. Nemi looked away, wondering if it was worth telling. Finding no good reason against it, she said:       “Okay, a sad little excursion into…” she thought, “…into me. Since we live under the same roof, I probably should have told you earlier,” she leaned on the countertop with one hand, twirling an empty glass. “I was born with a heart defect, often there are multiple. I had two. Coarctation…” she broke off, deciding not to complicate everything with terms. “In general, the narrowed aorta, for which the operation was performed immediately after birth, and it seems like I should live a pretty normal life. And I also have a mechanical valve, you can say I’m somewhat a cyborg,” she smiled. “That’s why I need these pills for the rest of my life to… slow down clotting, so the blood clot won’t accidentally fly into the brain or somewhere else. The valve changes about once every 20-30 years, so I have another… eight years, and I’ll have to change it. So if I don’t take a pill around seven in the evening, I would appreciate a reminder, even though this rarely happens.”       Einar nodded, not knowing that people usually respond to this.       “I’m sorry,” was the only seemingly logical thing that came to mind.       Nemi just shrugged her shoulders:       “It’s whatever.”       She didn’t like that look, the “you’re broken” look, fueled either by pity, sympathy, or togetherness. She could not stand both, so she devoted only close people to her health. However, until today.       “Well,” Nemi sighed, trying to figure out how to change the topic. “Another batch? I want a rematch,” she smiled.       She knew that she was unlikely to be able to win again shortly, but his company was really pleasant. Conversations about nothing, the pleasant silence of reflection during one’s move, the dimmed light, and the rain knocking on the window…       “Oh, I didn’t think you’d want another one. We’ve already played for almost 3 hours. I’ve already cleaned everything up.”       “Ah…” unexpected chagrin. “Then… next time,” she turned away and went to the sink to rinse the glass.       Einar shuffled awkwardly in place, looking at Nemi’s back, sensing her change of mood.       “Are you hungry?”       “I’ll probably go to my room then. I need to get ready for the working day,” she turned around, soaking her hands with a towel.       “You work with Argus, right?”       “Yes, I am his trainee… or rather an intern.”       It was not clear where the awkwardness came from and hung in the air. Nemi couldn’t just go upstairs because Einar was looking at her as if the dialogue wasn’t over yet.       “And you…” he began, trying to somehow start a new conversation. During chess, everything was somehow more natural and easy.       “I am a medical laboratory technician.”       “And what do you do? You’re not a full-fledged doctor, are you?”       “No, I’m not a doctor,” she smiled, trying to lower the degree of awkwardness. “I know the basics of microbiology, infectious diseases that are related to my profile, and quarantine diseases. And so, I only conduct microbiological studies, take blood samples, prepare all sorts of tools, reagents, equipment.”       “Oh, it’s interesting… and difficult.”       “Yes…” Nemi nodded slowly, smiling, biting her lip a little. “Well, I’ll go then.”       She walked around the island of countertops, heading for the stairs.       “By the way… Where’s Mitzi?”       Nemi froze, already putting her foot on the first step, completely forgetting that she had asked his servant to leave because she wanted to be alone. She turned, searching for words to justify herself.       “Ahem… I let her go.”       “You… what?”       Einar frowned, crossing his arms. His forearms tensed, showing from under the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt. Nemi swallowed nervously, rejecting the uninvited thoughts, having failed to come up with a decent excuse.       “It’s just… I was somehow not calm, I wanted to be alone, to think. I’m not used to having strangers around all the time… And I thought I could give her a day off. I know I’m just a guest here and I shouldn’t have, but…” Einar remained silent. “Listen, if it’s about dinner, I’ll cook something now. I’ll clean up everything I need. And it won’t happen again, I promise.”       Einar, apparently not expecting such words, opened his eyes in confusion. Nemi headed back to the kitchen.       “No, no, it’s not that—” he was about to start, but she interrupted:       “No, it’s not a problem at all. Consider it a bribe,” she smiled guiltily, but at the same time charmingly, passing by. “Besides, as if it were included in the list of conditions under which I live here.”       Einar did not argue anymore, and initially, he was not going to arrange a showdown. The main thing was that nothing happened to Mitzi, and she took the day off not because of a sudden indisposition. In addition, the reason for spending some more time in Nemi’s company was found by itself.       Nemi took out some potatoes, chicken breast, and spices. Einar washed and peeled the potatoes while Nemi was busy with the chicken.       “My grandma always cooked this when my parents and I came to Izvekhora. You’ll like it.”       The cutlets turned out to be grated potatoes mixed with chopped chicken. Einar showed where everything was, and took out the necessary plates and bowls. He set the table when Nemi was finishing frying the last few cutlets.       They were already sitting at the table, Nemi sipped from a glass into which Einar poured some recently infused wine when suddenly she asked:       “Have you ever told someone that you love them without actually meaning it?”       He looked up at her from his plate in confusion, lowering his fork.       “Eat with your hands, it’s more correct this way,” she took the fork from his hands, placing it on the edge of the table. “So what?”       “No, of course not. This is extremely mean,” he paused for a moment, waiting for some kind of continuation, but Nemi just continued to eat. “And you?”       “I wouldn’t have been able to do this, maybe before, but not now,” she shrugged, washing down a bite.       “Before?”       Nemi just smiled, saying nothing. Einar thought for a moment.       “Is there something you can’t forget?”       Her face drooped. She looked away, twirling the ring on her finger.       “Yes, but I’d prefer not to bring up this topic.”       Einar nodded understandingly.       “What about you?”       “Perhaps the death of my father.”       Nemi looked at him.       “I’m sorry, I understand well,” she picked up the cutlet again, taking another bite. “Those are some rather sad topics for dinner,” she laughed. “What song are you nostalgic for?”       “Uh… " he stopped chewing. “I never thought about it.”       “Selena Gomez’s Hit the Lights. It’s so light, and pleasant, and the text is also good. When I listen to it, I immediately go back to my childhood, warm memories are tied to it,” she smiled and sipped from a glass.       “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.”       “Really? What a pity.”       “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! by Abba, probably.”       There was a soft chuckle, which Nemi could not contain.       “Really?” She stared at him in amazement. “But it suits you. Not gonna lie I was expecting something… languid and dreary.”       Einar frowned a little, smiling only at the corners of his lips.       “Really, my brother and I used to go crazy over it. Do I give off such a depressing aura?”       “No, no! I just… I don’t know, I didn’t expect this song,” she smiled, shaking her head. “And you have a brother?”       “A step-brother. And we’re not communicating anymore.”       “Oh,” the smile dissolved. “I’ve always wanted a sibling, somehow it’s a little sad to grow up alone. And then… then in life, you will be alone, with no one to remember your parents, relatives, some moments from childhood.”       Einar just sipped his juice without answering.       Nemi changed the subject by asking about the wine business. Einar began a detailed lecture on planting grapes, taking care of bushes, correctly identifying ripe berries, to carefully collecting bunches of grapes. What are the trellises for grapes, which are better. What happens to grapes after harvesting, how the wort is made, how it fermented, and how the wine is aged. When they finished eating, Einar took her to a cellar filled with wooden barrels, showing her how the wines were aged and infused. He told an entertaining story, in small details. A spark of enthusiasm was immediately noticeable in the eyes of a man who loved his job.       “You’re cute,” Nemi smiled sweetly and quickly pursed her lips, realising that she had stirred up too much.       They were standing by the most recently filled barrel in the corner of the room. Einar was leaning against the wall, talking about the taste and characteristics of the wine in this barrick. He froze, stopped talking and stared at Nemi in confusion.       “Ahem,” she licked her lips, trying not to smile stupidly. “Just… I’ve always enjoyed watching people who talk about something so enthusiastically.”       Einar cleared his throat, trying to collect his thoughts:       “Thank you.”       He almost added “you too”, which would be completely out of place. He took a plastic cup and poured a little from the barrick to give her a taste.       “We have never made wines with such taste before, a trial batch,” handed her a cup.       It was poured for one sip. Nemi twirled it a little, sniffing.       “Orange?”       “Yes, a bit.”       Nemi drank all the contents, waiting for the aftertaste.       “Mmm, very unusual, I like it,” she handed him an empty cup.       “Consider yourself the first taster,” he smiled, placing the cup next to the clean ones.       “I will earn extra money as a sommelier.”       Nemi hesitated on the spot, feeling an incipient nervousness.       “Thanks for the story, it was very interesting,” she touched his hand, quickly sliding over it. “It’s a little late, and I need to get ready for tomorrow. So… good night.”       “Yes, of course.”       She headed for the stairs to the first floor, turning around and smiling at him one last time.       The day started early, she had to stop by the auto repair shop to pick up the finally repaired car. Then, by car, get to Iparsis. There to meet Argus, get acquainted with two more interns and go together to another building, in which the Argus laboratory was located. And there was to spend the rest of the working day.       The work was not too hard, rather, it was still somewhat unusual: at the Academy, they usually worked with other equipment and devices. In addition, the actual tasks were different from the practice and laboratory work at the Academy. It was necessary to get used to the real-life work, with which the rest of her life would be connected.       Before the date, Nemi stopped by home to refresh her makeup and hairstyle a little. She was standing in the bathroom on the first floor, applying mascara. Einar just got home. He opened the bathroom door to wash his hands. He shuddered slightly, not expecting to see anyone. He held a gaze on Nemi for a while, examining a simple but spectacular black dress.       “You… look very good.”       “You think?” she smiled at the compliment. “Thanks.”       Nemi moved to the side, making room next to the sink.       “Going somewhere?”       “On a date.”       Nemi looked at Einar through the mirror. He frowned slightly.       “A date?”       “What, I don’t look like the type to go on dates?”       “What? No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just that you’ve been here less than a week, I didn’t think that you could find someone for a date so quickly.”       She restrained herself from telling him that he had in fact asked her out almost on the third day of her stay here. Einar wiped his hands on a terry towel.       “I was invited when I was waiting for you at the tavern. I decided to make more acquaintances.”       “Interesting,” he hung the towel on the hook. “Then good luck with the date, Nemi.”       He came out of the bathroom, closing the door. Nemi stared at the door for a couple more seconds, then rolled her eyes and returned to makeup.       Nemi was already at the tavern at a little after seven. She scanned the ground floor of the establishment, trying to find Quinn. She had already had time to berate herself a hundred times for agreeing to go with him in the first place rather than refusing.       Quinn was sitting at one of the tables in the corner. He was wearing the same clothes as the day he came up to her. Perhaps it was a working form. He was the first to see her and waved his hand, attracting her attention. Nemi smiled a little stiffly and went to the table.       “Hey.”       Nemi sat down at the table next to Quinn.       “Hello, beautiful,” he impressively leaned on the back of a small sofa, slightly raising his chin.       Nemi bit her cheek, trying to calm the caustic comments, only, as it seemed to her, smiled even more tightly in response, already thinking about how long she needed to sit here so that he would not consider her departure impolite.       “What will you have?”       “To be honest, I’m not very hungry. But I’ll have something to drink.”       “Yes, me too,” he examined her closely. “A bottle of red wine then?”       “Sounds good.”       Quinn got up and went to the bar to order. The date was going to be hard.       After a couple of drinks, it became easier to turn a blind eye to Quinn’s questionable words, but flirting was still difficult, which had never been a problem before. It was already the third, almost finished glass, when Quinn put his hand on Nemi’s knee. She shivered and gently removed his hand. Three glasses had a much greater effect on Quinn, or Nemi didn’t notice that he drank more than her. After an hour of conversation, she actively tried to catch the moment to ask him to excuse her and leave, but still could not catch on to anything. It was close to closing time.       “You’re such an interesting girl, Nemi,” Quinn began to behave loudly.       “Trying my best,” she smiled reluctantly, taking another sip.       “I would…”       He didn’t finish and abruptly leaned to her, squeezing her hand. Nemi managed to move to the side, not letting him kiss her. The perfect opportunity to finally say goodbye. She took his hand off of her and stood up.       “Come on now, why are you playing hard to get?” he pulled her toward him, forcing her to sit back. “Just a kiss. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” he grinned lasciviously.       Nemi raised an eyebrow sceptically, starting to get annoyed. She stood up again, this time moving a little to the side.       “Well, thank you for the evening, but I’d better go,” she took a couple of bills out of her wallet and put them on the table in front of him, making sure not to own him anything. “…It was nice to meet you.”       Quinn stood up, too, and squeezed her shoulder again.       “Come on, what’s the rush?”       He pulled her closer. Nemi was frantically trying with one hand to fumble in her bag for the keys or anything to poke into his eye to temper his ardour.       “Quinn, I reckon, she has already politely declined your impolite offer. Do you want to get punched in the face by a lady or me to throw you out of here?”       Nemi turned around when she heard a familiar voice. Quinn immediately released her, backing away a little.       “Mr. Brandt? I… just drank too much, I wasn’t going to do anything like that. I apologise.”       “You don’t say that to me, say that to her. And I don’t want to see you around here ever again, drunkard.”       Einar stood by Nemi’s side, still staring intently at Quinn. Nemi exhaled with relief, squeezing the keys she finally found between her fingers.       “I’m sorry, Nemi.”       He squinted at the keys in her hand, quickly took the bottle, which had a couple of dozen millilitres of wine left in it, the money left by Nemi and quickly walked past them to the exit. Only now did Nemi relax her hand.       “You wanted to have a bloodbath here?” Einar chuckled, watching Quinn leave.       “If there was no other choice,” she forced a smile, calming the trembling in her hands, and again threw the keys to the bottom of the bag. “Thank you,” she looked at him gratefully.       “Quinn is certainly a regular here, but I’ve never seen him cross the line like that before.”       Nemi shrugged her shoulders:       “Seems to me like a pretty standard tavern scene before closing time,” she turned around to make sure that he left. “And why are you here?”       “I’ve been here for about forty minutes,” he grinned again, thinking that she hadn’t noticed him at the bar. “I came to replace the bartender, he felt unwell.”       “Ah… So you’re bartending part-time, too? So how come you have so much time?”       “We are closing!” Einar shouted to the whole hall. “Five more minutes!”       People began to fuss around, quickly starting to empty their glasses and get up from their seats.       “I sometimes wonder about that myself,” this time he answered Nemi’s question. “You can sit at the bar, I’ll close the cash register and give you a ride.”       “I’m driving,” Nemi followed him to the bar.       “You’re drunk” Einar looked around, casting a glance at her.       “Oh, right…”       There were only a couple of people left in the tavern, not in a hurry to leave at all.       “Can I go behind the bar?” alcohol always loosened her tongue, especially in pleasant company. “By the way, this uniform suits you very well, very se—” she broke off, pursing her lips.       She wanted to laugh, but she carefully restrained herself. Einar, blowing air through his nose, grinned at her comment.       “Thank you. Yes, you can come in. Just try not to break anything.”       Nemi went behind the bar, inspecting bottles of alcohol and syrups. Einar was standing next to the cash register.       “You have one minute!” he shouted again.       The remnants of people lazily began to gather their belongings and walk in an uneven trajectory towards the door. Nemi hopped onto the unoccupied countertop next to the sink, examining the wines on the shelves along the wall.       “And you sell all this?”       “Not everything. Some of them are just for decoration, some cost too much for someone to afford to buy.”       “And aren’t you afraid that someone might break such a jewel?”       “No one comes in here except employees.”       She smiled:       “And me.”       Einar coughed, squinting at her.       “I’ve never been behind a bar, it’s even strange.”       Having finished with the cash register, he came up, standing in front of her.       “Why is it strange? No outsiders are usually allowed behind the bar.”       “I often went to bars before, but none of the bartenders ever allowed me to go behind a bar just for my beautiful eyes,” she blinked quickly, looking up at him. “Except for you,” she grinned, running her fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her face.       Suddenly flirting became as easy and natural again as it was a few years ago. A pleasant and easy, non-binding, blushing flirtation. Or the alcohol that finally loosened the tongue was to blame for everything.       “Is that so?” he came a little closer, practically standing between her legs. “You don’t look like an avid bar—goer.”       “Every lady has her secrets that remain in the past.”       Warmth ran through her body, it became hot, cheeks flushed. Einar also began to breathe harder.       “I don’t doubt it.”       “And did you let many girls sit in the bar like that?”       “Only if they have beautiful eyes.”       Nemi bit her cheek, holding back a smile. She looked up at him again, the smile fading from her face. He was looking at her so… intently, burning. She only had time to notice that his eyes slid to her lips, as immediately he was between her legs, eagerly biting into her lips. She exhaled loudly in surprise, leaning back under the pressure, one hand resting on the countertop, the other one wrapping around his neck. He immediately opened her lips, seeking her tongue with his. She answered almost instantly, hesitating only for a couple of seconds. Einar gripped her waist with one hand and her thigh with the other, lifting it a little to his hips. He practically laid her bar counter so that she stopped leaning on it with a hand, holding on his neck with both hands now, wanting to pull him even closer.       “Wait…” Nemi whispered through the kiss not at all audible, a word more like a moan than a request. “Stop…”       When Einar realised the meaning of her words, he stopped but did not pull away.       “I can’t… I’m sorry,” she breathed into his lips.       They were both breathing erratically, their hearts beating wildly in their chests, their lips still feeling each other’s warmth. Einar moved away, allowing her to straighten up and fix her dress as she got on her feet.       “I’m sorry…” she looked at him with eyes full of regret, as if she were blaming herself for something.       “Everything… It’s nothing. You have nothing to apologise for.       He, without looking at her and still trying to even out his breathing, took the keys and wallet from the shelf.       “Let’s go.”