Chapter 1 #2
I let out a soft laugh, surprising myself. It feels… easy. Effortless in a way nothing has felt all night.
“Alright.” I nod, turning slightly toward the bartender. “I’ll have what he’s having.”
The man beside me watches that, something approving settling in his gaze.
“Bold choice,” he murmurs.
“Reckless, maybe,” I counter.
“Those two tend to blur.”
The drink arrives, placed carefully in front of me. I lift it, studying it for a second before taking a cautious sip.
The citrus hits first, before the whiskey drags in behind it. Warmth spreads instantly, smooth and layered, a slow bloom rather than a biting burn.
“Oh.” My eyes widen, before I can stop myself.
He hums softly.
“Tastes better than it looks.” I glance at him, narrowing my eyes slightly.
“I bet it does,” he agrees. Too easily.
And it’s not what he says. It’s how.
Like there’s something sitting underneath the words, something that burns me up instantly.
I laugh again, shaking my head to reshuffle my emotions.
“Do you always talk like that?”
“Only when I mean it.” There’s no hesitation or performance. Just… certainty.
It pulls at something in me.
We fall into conversation after that, and it’s almost unsettling how natural it feels. Like slipping into something I didn’t realize I’d been missing.
He asks questions, but not in that probing, intrusive way, more like he’s mapping me out piece by piece, patiently and attentively.
And I answer.
I shouldn’t, maybe. There’s a voice in the back of my mind reminding me of why I’m here, who I’m here with, and what this is supposed to be.
But that voice is stifled now. Drowned out by the low cadence of his voice, the way his attention doesn’t waver, the way I don’t have to fight for it.
Time drags.
Or folds.
I’m not sure which.
At some point, I realize I’ve stopped checking the room for Daniel. Stopped wondering if he’ll come looking for me. Stopped caring.
Until a woman appears at his side.
I don’t see her approach. One moment it’s just us, and the next she’s there, leaning in close, her hand brushing lightly against his shoulder as she murmurs something into his ear.
She’s beautiful. Striking in a way that feels like every detail has been chosen with purpose.
Her hair falls in dark chestnut waves, streaked with auburn that catches the light in flashes, like something smoldering just beneath the surface.
And her eyes are dark, enough to feel. They look like they already know more than they’re saying.
He doesn’t turn toward her fully, but his attention shifts subtly.
His expression doesn’t change much.
But something in the air does.
She straightens, her gaze flicking to me for the briefest second. There’s something in it I can’t quite place, assessment, maybe. Calculation.
Then she’s gone.
I blink, the moment breaking slightly.
“She’s intense. Friend of yours?”
He watches the direction she disappeared for a second longer before looking back at me.
“Something like that.”
That’s vague. Intentionally vague.
“She didn’t look like she was here for small talk.” I turn my glass slowly between my fingers.
“She wasn’t.”
That should feel like a warning, but it does.
“I’m calling it a night.” He sets his glass down, shifting slightly toward me.
“Oh.” My disappointment doesn’t even try to hide.
“But we don’t have to.”
It takes a second.
Then another.
My mind catches up slowly, like it doesn’t quite trust what it just heard, turning the words over, checking for a version that makes more sense.
There isn’t one.
My breath catches, just a little.
It would be easy. Too easy.
I glance past him, across the casino floor, until I find Daniel again. Still at the table. Still exactly where I left him. Untouched by time, by me, by anything that doesn’t involve the next hand.
“I… Uhm…” I nod subtly in Daniel’s direction. “I’m here with someone.”
The man beside me follows my gaze. He takes his time.
Really looks.
And then slowly, he turns back to me.
There’s something in his expression now that wasn’t there before.
“Are you?” He asks quietly, his question grating under my skin.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out because I don’t know how to answer that without lying.
“I don’t even know your name.” I divert.
“It’s Robert.” His gaze lingers on me for a second longer, like he’s waiting to see if I’ll figure it out.
Then he stands.
“Enjoy your drink, Christine.”
The way he says my name, like he’s been saying it for years, as if it fits somewhere it shouldn’t, sends something strange through me.
He doesn’t wait for a response.
He just walks away.
And I’m left there, the glass still in my hand, the noise of the casino rushing back in around me, louder than before.
I feel it then.
Something in me stumbles first, thoughts scattering like they’ve been knocked out of place, like I’ve been pulled out of my own rhythm without warning.
Then my heart feels aware of itself, like it doesn’t know whether to stop beating or spiral.
And my body… stiffens, a pause, like it’s bracing for something. Then heat follows, creeping in, softening everything it just locked up.
The moment he disappears through the back door, the word no claws up my throat, like it might actually stop him if I let it out.
I don’t.
The door swings shut anyway.
And just like that, I feel… off.
Like something was just within reach and slipped away, leaving nothing but its absence.
I feel… lacking.
“He’s got that effect on everyone,” the bartender slips beside me, already reaching for my glass, her voice as steady as her hands.
“Oh.”
“But it’s the first time anyone has had that effect on him.”
She’s gone before I can ask what that even means, moving on to the next person like she didn’t just tilt something in me.
Oh.