slurred words
Lis smiled down at her phone her cheeks, already slightly colored from the wine darkening slightly. “Could I have another glass, please?” she asked as the bartender passed by. Her Italian was still choppy at best, too formal yet as if some words didn’t quite fit together.Lis smile only grew larger at the question as the guy, no older than 30, fixed her order. “She is special. We just meet. Well - no. We meet before. But we just meet, meet. You know? Sometimes you can see someone a million times and not really see them at all.” she tried to explain leaning more on the bar her fingers curling over the edge on his side. “But she’s so nice, and carefree, and the most genuine person I have ever meet. I think God sent me an angel,” she said the last part as if it was a secret, a whisper in the night followed by a small laugh as she sat back. The barmen seemed amused by her response as he put down the glass in front of her “It’s great to see someone so open about it. In this day and age the country needs more people so open about who they love” he told her as he walked away to serve another client. As she looked at her glass Lis could feel her happiness slip away as if washed by rain. She placed a few bills on the counter, likely 10 times more than she owned before she made to grab her things and leave. Her phone beeped again and she pulled it out as she made her way out the bar, I’ll be there in 10. Pocketing the phone without replying she made her way down the street to the house she had been staying in. Perhaps it was time to go home.