The streets were dirty. It was only nine o'clock, but I could smell alcohol in the air, like someone was drinking heavily. Maybe they were.
I could see laundry hanging between buildings like flags.
Gregorio lived around here.
That alone should've told me something about him.
I could have checked the address again, but I already knew it was right.
I stood before a tavern. There was a sign outside that creaked lazily in the wind. I didn't bother reading it.
I couldn't hear anything from inside. Guess that day drinkers were a quiet bunch.
Above, in a small apartment, was where my grandpa had decided to stay.
Gregorio could do better.
Over his lifetime, he got titles and money - assets scattered around the world, even if he didn't use them.
He could have lived in a giant manor, overlooking a nice scenery, but no.
Instead, he rented a room over a tavern in the worst part of a bad district - a part of Astar Shadowboon would have his dealings in.
I climbed the narrow stairs at the side of the building. They groaned under my weight, and I briefly wondered if they'd collapse under my feet.
I knocked, but there was no answer.
I knocked again and again.
I had to wait almost ten minutes until the door opened.
"Come in," Gregorio said, though his voice was groggy.
He was shirtless and barefoot. At first glance, what caught my eye weren't the scars.
It was the ink.
Gregorio's skin was layered with tattoos - arms, shoulders, chest, even creeping up his neck in places where a collar would usually hide them. It was the first time I could see them so clearly.
Some of them moved when stared at for too long: chaos tattoos.
And others were very mundane - just decorative - or camouflage. Maybe both.
Hiding chaos between normal ink wasn't such a bad idea - how the harmless designs broke up the dangerous ones, how nothing truly important stood alone.
Then I noticed the scars. They crisscrossed his back and sides, cutting through ink and skin alike.
Even with healing magic and chaos tattoos, I guess there were things in this world that just couldn't be fully healed.
Even though he was his young version, it didn't mean that I wanted to see him half-naked.
Other than that, his new home stank of alcohol, even worse than downstairs.
There were books and notes everywhere, lying on a table or on the floor.
Next to the alcohol, I smelled a faint note of ink.
"I'll just freshen up and join you," Gregorio said and went into what I assumed was a bathroom, if there even was one here.
I sat down in a chair in the living room. I looked around the apartment more and didn't come to like what I saw any more.
And then the door to the adjoining room opened.
A woman stepped out.
She froze when she saw me.
She couldn't have been older than her late twenties. Dark hair, mussed, wearing little more than a loose shirt and panties, clearly not meant for company.
She looked at me, her expression like she was doing complicated math quickly.
Then Gregorio stepped out of the bathroom.
The three of us looked at each other.
Gregorio, to his credit, didn't even flinch. He leaned back against the table, arms crossed, looking utterly unbothered.
"Morning," he said, like this was perfectly normal.
The woman cleared her throat. "You didn't say you had company."
"I didn't know I would," he replied.
She looked at me again, eyes narrowing slightly. "You're his… nephew?"
"He's something like that," Gregorio said immediately.
"I also didn't know that he had someone over," I said.
Honestly, I wasn't very bothered or flustered by scantily clad women.
And I could figure out quickly who this woman was. Well, not who, but what.
I guess a kind of booty call, judging by the alcohol and state of undress.
Remembering all the stories of the past Gregorio told me, I already had an inkling that he wouldn't spend all nights alone.
"So," she said, glancing between Gregorio and me, then settling on me with a polite, strained smile. "You're… visiting?"
"Yes," I said.
Another pause.
"That's nice," she offered. "Family is important."
Gregorio snorted quietly.
She shot him a look, then tried again. "You come here often?"
"No," I said. "This is my first time."
"I - right. Of course." She tugged the hem of her shirt down, then immediately seemed to realize how pointless that was and stopped. "Uh. I was just leaving anyway."
"You don't have to explain yourself," I added. "Really."
"I know how he is," I continued, nodding vaguely toward Gregorio.
Gregorio raised an eyebrow.
The woman nodded once. "That's - "
"You don't have to do this," I added calmly.
She stopped.
"I mean," I continued, keeping my tone even, "you don't have to make it less awkward. It already is. That's fine."
Then she let out a quiet breath. "Thank you," she said, genuinely. "I was about to start talking about the weather."
Gregorio leaned against the table, watching with mild interest. "You always had a talent for cutting through things."
The woman adjusted her shirt, suddenly much more at ease. "Well," she said, "in that case, I'll go. No hard feelings."
She passed me and turned for just a moment before leaving. "We should do this again sometime," she said to Gregorio.
"Maybe," Gregorio said.
She left, closing the door behind her, disappearing down the stairs.
I didn't comment on it. It wasn't wanted or needed, but I did give Gregorio a look.
He was what? Seventy or eighty already? He kept his exact age a secret.
Hmm… Maybe the woman was the lucky one? Gregorio could be considered a kind of cougar, giving young women the night of their life, right?
I imagine that many young women would be happy if some random man would offer them a one-night stand. And if the man looked young and handsome, it wouldn't really matter what their actual age was, right? Some harmless fun.
Was my grandfather a gilf? Or a dilf? No, he was an actual grandfather, so the G would still apply, even if he's a man.
Maybe I was giving Gregorio too much credit or was just thinking about this too much.
Anyway, Grandpa sat down cross-legged on the floor.
"She was a very selfish lover," he said.
"Grandpa."
"I'm just being honest. Some women have no idea how to treat a man right. They take what they want from you and leave you out to dry."
"Grandpa."
"Fine. When you're with someone and they don't know how to meet your needs, don't say that nobody warned you."
"Grandpa, seriously."
"Alright, alright. I'm done. …You're late," he said.
"I'm early," I replied. "Grandpa, you live in a hole."
He laughed. "Keeps expectations low."
I looked around again, frowning. "You like this place?"
"No," he said. "I tolerate it." And then he shrugged.
"You could at least clean the place up."
"I could," he agreed.
Fair enough.
He finally gestured toward the chair. "Now, sit down. We've got work to do."
He reached for a chipped bottle on the floor and drank from it.
The bottle made a dull sound when he set it down. Not empty. Not full. He drank a good mouthful.
I never really liked alcohol much - not the smell and definitely not the taste.
I was more of a coffee guy, but this world didn't have much. Not that there was nothing, but it was rare that I got a good cup of it.
Recently, meaning the last few years, that changed slowly.
Asolar embraced coffee, and Shadowboon was even taking a few of his classmates to a café, which I never thought I'd see again.
Gregorio studied me for a moment after I sat down. I wasn't going to sit on the floor, like he did.
I think he saw that my thoughts were far away from this place.
"So," he said. "Got any girls in your life?"
I was tired. "I have a lot of girls in my life. More than enough for two, technically. But not like that."
Gregorio raised an eyebrow. "Complicated then? It's usually code for 'yes, but I'm lying to myself.'"
"It's not like that," I said.
"Then it's just exhausting, not even in a fun way."
"Grandpa," I said.
"What? You know how I am, and you're just about an adult. I had my first whirlwind romance when I was about your age."
"My age," I huffed in my thoughts.
He watched me for a moment longer, then shrugged. "Fair enough. Just don't pretend you're immune to wanting things. Deep down, every man wants a strong woman to ravage them."
I wasn't going to argue. There'd be no sense in it with Gregorio.
"That's…" I paused for a second, "…not exactly what I want."
…But it wasn't something I didn't want.
I didn't say that part out loud.