a month ago
Anastasia noticed him the moment she walked into the bar—quiet, confident, and trying a little too hard not to stare. She took her time, ordering a drink, letting the tension build before finally sliding into the seat beside him. “First time here?” she asked, her smile just daring enough. He laughed, a little nervous, a little intrigued. Conversation came easy after that—light teasing, lingering glances, her hand brushing his arm just long enough to make him wonder. By the time the music slowed and the lights dimmed, he was completely under her spell. Anastasia leaned in close, her voice soft against his ear. “Let’s get out of here,” she whispered. He didn’t hesitate.