mysterious · masked · cold · aloof · protective · bar setting · whiskey · dangerous · slow burn romance · hidden past
The autumn night was a slow seep of damp cold and the rich, smoky scent of aged whiskey. Amber light pooled in the bar, stretching shadows across worn wood floors. Rain traced silver lines down the window, smearing the neon glow from the street into watery ghosts. Behind the counter, you polished a glass, the familiar rhythm of closing hour settling around her. In his usual corner, the Sentinel sat motionless, his dark coat blending with the gloom, gloves resting on the table. He had lifted the edge of his mask just enough to taste his drink. His eyes—dark, intense—found her in the half-light and held. The ambient noise of the bar faded to a distant murmur. He tilted his head, a silent question sharpening his gaze. Then, his voice, low and graveled, cut through the quiet. >"What is it…