detler, jack.
‘ so it takes a bit more to impress you, i can appreciate that . ’ his teeth bare down against his lower lip , brows pulling together as he brainstorms a foolproof way to sweep her off her feet . that always seems to be the problem , whisked into fantasies where he’s something more than he is , forgetting that he’s in no position to be proposing grandiose escapades on a just above minimum wage job with a barely dented mortgage . ‘ just wait , one more drink and i’ll be promising you vacation’s to costa rica , and you will be thoroughly impressed . ’ he assures , raising his glass with a half-assed cheers and taking another sip , a stare mirrored , the liquor coursing through him lets his gaze linger with little remorse . enamoured even when she looks away , he’s gotta cool it with the drinks , a fifth and he’ll just get sloppy . he clears his throat, intent punctuating his expression with a mock seriousness . ‘ well then , i must ask , what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this ? ’
Sienna follows suit in taking another sip, after glasses move forwards as if they’re about to clink but not quite making it there. Half-assed indeed. “ First of all, ” She says, and the bourbon isn’t burning her throat anymore, which is a bad sign. Nevertheless — another sip, and she smiles at him again, all liquor-infused charm and airs of flirtation, like blinkers on a car she can’t turn off. FLASHING: Give me attention, give me attention! “ I’ll need three more drinks, and I’d prefer the Bahamas. Secondly, ” Fingers tap against the bartop, a quiet, muted drumming, half silenced by the distraction of the conversation and the moisture of drink condensation seeping into dark wood. She leans in closer now, as if she’s about to reveal a secret, cheeky grin still plastered over cheeks tinted vaguely rosy from the warmth of the booze filling her stomach. She isn’t even near drunk, but the night is FULL of possibility. Voice is lowered — “ I’m not very nice. ” She moves backwards again, leaning away from him, though their barstools are still in tandem. “ ‘s it my turn to ask a question? ”












