Of all the bars in town, it was one of the nicest. The air was mostly clear, save for the ever present haze of cigarette smoke that seemed to linger over all taverns. Soft and relaxing music played from an old style jukebox tucked into the corner. All the patrons talked quietly amongst themselves or nursed their drinks in silence.
It was a perfect place to try and drink off her headache.
A glass full of bourbon in one hand and the other pressing a warm cloth over her cheek and already she was feeling better. The left side of her face was bruised and the cheek was slightly swollen beneath the cloth, but already it was beginning to ease back on its throbbing. Blood stained the front of her shirt in small droplets, but it wasn’t an uncommon sight. Only some of it was hers, anyway.
Least I won! She thought, enthusiastic for someone who looked half beaten. The bartender was familiar with her and once he was sure blood wouldn’t start to flow again if she removed the rag he took it to warm it once more.
“Was a good fight this time,” She told him when he brought it back, smiling just as brightly as ever. The barkeep snorted and walked back to his work, leaving her to nurse her bourbon in peace.
“Real good,” She murmured before tossing the drink back and placing the cloth over her cheek once more, sucking in a breath as warmth agitated the raw flesh. “Better than the last.”