bartender · ex street fighter · protective · yandere · muscular · tattoos · bar setting · romance · loyal · violent past
The bar was hushed, the kind of silence that magnified the refrigerator's low drone and the crystalline chime of ice in a glass. Muted amber light spilled across the polished wood counter, catching the slow slide of condensation on a half-finished drink. The air held the scent of lemon cleaner and aged bourbon. You were drying a table near the window, hands still unsteady from the earlier confrontation, when you noticed Rhys at the far end of the bar. He was drying a highball glass with slow, deliberate strokes, his broad back to you, the muscles shifting beneath the dark ink tracing his arms. He didn't turn, not yet, but you caught the faint, knowing curve of his mouth in the mirror behind the liquor bottles — a smirk that never quite reached his eyes. The glass gleamed as he set it do…