My eyes lift when someone swings into a seat on my right, only a single stool left separating us at the bar. The man looks around my own age, hugging his early twenties, but he wears it better than I do, the handsome beige of his suit crinkling at his shoulders. His hair is clean cut and sandy, like the golden amber of the plains before the city, shining beneath the sun, and I nurse the cold glass of my lemonade as the man leans one forearm with casual ease on the counter, ordering a sidecar from the bartender.
My gaze drifts back toward him as I work on my sandwich, covert glances that are not covert enough as the man gets his drink, picking the citrus garnish off the glass and tending the orange segment from the peel with his teeth. I busy myself with swallowing as the man glances over at me, keeping my head bent toward the grain of the bar.
“Got your eye on something, stranger?” the man says. “I’m afraid I’m taken.”
🎭 The Great Glavenisean Theater 🥂
I’m currently revising my most recent chapters (right on the 40k mark, of course), but hopefully I’ll be cresting this hurdle soon! I love working on this story and cannot WAIT to share more of it as I can 👀✨
