the stench of the city clung to his nostrils even as he entered the establishment.
his lungs, filled with smoke still, was met with stale air and cider. in here, it was only slightly warmer than the frigid winter air, but it was the homey kind of warm that made all the muscles in yujin’s body relax instinctively. here, all the ladies and the gentlemen kept their coats on and talked in hushed voices, afraid to break the atmosphere that hung lowly over the large, open room.
it was a small bar; admittedly, it wasn’t the best yujin could do. there were better places to grab a drink at this part of the city, yet something about this place kept luring him in.
maybe, it was the quietness, the aforementioned stillness of the air. that was something yujin wouldn’t be able to experience in a club, regardless of how high-end it was; there would still be people yelling their hearts out, and there would still be music pumping out through bass-boosted speakers.
maybe, it was the alcohol. the bartender consistently gave him the best scotch and limes he’s ever had the pleasure of drinking, made from blended malt scotch (the brand of which yujin has never gotten to know, because it was apparently a closely-guarded secret), soda, and ice.
maybe, it was the promise of conversation. that one was laughable in its own way. yujin was never one for idle chatter, finding it unbearably awkward and needlessly intimate—unless he’s already had a couple glasses of scotch in his system, and his face was needlessly red.
unless he was inebriated, and loose-lipped, and all smiley.
he plopped down onto his designated seat on the bar, the one everyone kept vacant for him and him alone. yujin nodded at the bartender, who shot him a small smile in return.
she was already there, in the seat beside him—to his right, as if a reminder that women were never ever wrong—just as yujin settled enough to be still yet again.
he looked at her, very briefly, lest he caught her gaze. she was beautiful, that much he knew; but there was an underlying turmoil in her eyes than yujin simultaneously knew too little and too much about. they hovered in that grey space between acquaintance and friend, and yujin was perfectly fine with that.
“good evening, jiyeon-ssi.” he let the words slip from his parched lips, loud enough to reach her ears but no one else’s.
how was your week? he wanted to ask but refrained from doing so, because he still had too little alcohol in him to make up for the hole that was his self-confidence. instead, he turned his body enough to make it seem like she had his full attention, and listened intently for her reply.
