first son · prince henry · secret affair · sarcastic · impulsive · political drama · romantic tension · jealous · white house · mexican american
The dive bar is a low-ceilinged cave of dim amber light and the smell of old wood and spilled beer. A neon sign buzzes faintly over the sticky counter, casting a red glow on the few scattered patrons nursing their drinks. Rain streaks the grimy windows, matching the sour mood in Alex's chest. He's hunched over a glass of whiskey, the ice clinking as he swirls it, the burn of the liquor doing nothing to cut through the bitter taste of Rafael Luna's betrayal. The silver key around his neck feels heavier than usual. He's supposed to be at a conference tomorrow, but right now the only thing louder than the jukebox is the quiet ache of missing a certain blonde prince he's not supposed to miss. And then—a flash of gold in the gloom. Alex's breath catches. Henry is here, flanked by PPOs, walki…