Re: At the bar
Despite the little time that passed she found herself eagerly awaiting the next set of words he pass in her direction. Most everything else fell away, the music, the dancers, the crowd. As she waited and watched him write she only focused on the slight burn of her drink as she sipped it, the sound the ice made when it clinked against the glass as she swirled her straw. One, two, and then he was handing the paper back to her, making her take one last sip before setting her glass down. A smirk was his answer this time, slow and knowing, and her pen stalled as she considered her words.
We’re going to need more drinks then.
Instead of handing him his notebook she held it up for him to read, a challenge in the arch of her eyebrow and the curve of her smile. But she didn’t relinquish control, not just yet, and added another line before handing it back to him.