Love,  Love Stories by V. Monet

Kings and Queens

Two lovers write their own love story on a magical night in the old city

What a beautiful day it was in Edinburgh. It was one of the cities I always wanted to see for myself, thinking back to the stories I heard from childhood, a land where kings and queens ruled told by old legends. The skies were now a beautiful mix of cotton candy shades of pink, orange, and purple undertones in the sparse clouds. I looked out my window to see Edinburgh Castle looming in the distance on its short hill, towering over the other buildings around it. I had spent the whole day walking around the city, taking everything it had to offer. I was here looking for a story, hoping to find inspiration in a city known for its literary wonder. I spent the day learning about the many different writers that lived here and stopped by a few gin tastings along the way. It was rare that I got to enjoy any time to myself when I traveled to work. I made it a point to find some time for myself while I was here to help me finish my book. I had been suffering from a case of terrible writer’s block, dealing with stress at home. This trip was my chance to find inspiration to write. Dozens of writers have written fictional masterpieces here; maybe I could be one more. 

I was here on work but this was the one night I had to myself. Lucky for me, I had a friend who was based here and decided to give her a call to hang out before I moved on to the next portion of my trip. I was supposed to be leaving for London tomorrow afternoon and I wanted to spend one night out with friends. I left my room, making my way downstairs to the main sitting area. The seating was an open space with natural lighting filled with guests enjoying an afternoon tea and lunch. The mix of modern and traditional aristocratic décor was refined; it was one of the best hotels around Charlotte Square. The hotel had its own history of writers coming here to write their works. I walked through the lobby and outside to my cab waiting outside.

I took a trip to an Indian restaurant not too far from where I was staying. I enjoyed a lot of the restaurants during my stay in the country but I had a special place in my heart for their abundance in Indian restaurants. This one was a bit more upscale then the others I had passed by. The interior looked like a dreamy palace of sorts with traditional Indian décor and accents. When I arrived, I walked to hostess who graciously guided me upstairs. It was a modest space with giant floor-to-ceiling windows that looked down to the street with a view of park nearby.  My girlfriends were waiting for me at their table, and we all delighted to be reunited once again. They told me all about their lives as single women in Edinburgh and the surrounding areas. We laughed over wine and the spicy curried dishes, reminiscing about our younger days. It made me realize how much I missed being around them and the loneliness that came with adulthood. To think, most of lives we want to rush to be seen an independent adult, to be someone that can take care of themselves with help from no one that once we get it, we take for granted the value of friends. So instead of ending the night after dinner, we decided to move the party to another venue and go to a few more bars, tasting a different gin-infused cocktail at every stop. The city had no shortage of places to grab a good drink whether it was a beer at a casual pub or an original concoction created by a skilled mixologist at a higher end establishment. 

By the end of the night, I left the girls to take a cab back to the hotel. I felt good but still sober enough to walk past check in without feeling embarrassed. I didn’t want to go upstairs to my room just yet. I decided to walk over to the Editor’s Bar outside of the main room to grab a final drink to wind-down. I asked the bartender to whip me up something fancy, a nice nightcap to end my night out on the town. There weren’t many people there. I looked down at the bar to see only one other sitting several seats down. He looked he was lost in his own world, probably consumed with the weight of life like we all were internally. I watched his eyes to rise up slowly to meet me. We linger for a moment, caught in the other’s crossfire. He waved over the bartender to give an order. I noticed that the worker was making two glasses rather than one. When he was done, he brought the cocktail over to me and then brought second one back to my handsome stranger. He gave a weak smile and raised his glass. The drink was on his tab and I didn’t see why I should refuse.

Our conversation slowly started over how we both ended up at this bar and in Edinburgh. He told me he was also a writer and he was here working on a story. As time continued, the gap between us got smaller and there were a couple more drinks added onto his tab. The flow of interaction felt so natural. We talked about many things. We continued laughing and until I finally looked at the time realizing how late it had gotten. It was time for the night to come for an end. He grabbed a piece of paper from his pocket and wrote his name and number down. I thought about how cliché it looked but he looked so sincere in his eyes. He wanted us to meet again and so did I. We got up and left the bar, slowly walking back to the lobby. It was time for us to part. I didn’t know if I would ever see him again but for some reason I choose to believe in a future where we did. I surprised him to stealing a quick kiss before disappearing into the main room to go back to my room. I didn’t look back, knowing it would be too hard to give him a proper goodbye. I held my breath until I got inside my room and put my back to door. I couldn’t help but smile. I think I had found the inspiration I was looking for. 

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