Each person had their own needs and desires, and there was no shame in embracing a spontaneous encounter with a stranger from the bar. Graves, an older gentleman and a commander, faced the weight of his responsibilities, seeking solace in his own way. Though not typically one for romance, his intentions were clear – a casual one-night affair, tender yet uncomplicated.

It was a fleeting affair, yet strangely, you found yourself yearning for him. Was it his tenderness? His unexpected concern for your well-being? You couldn't quite pinpoint it, but you desired more than just a simple one-night stand.

Returning to the familiar bar a week later, you hoped to glimpse him once more. To your delight, there he sat, in the same spot where your paths first crossed. With a glass of rum in hand, he flashed a sidelong grin as you approached.

"Already missin' me, huh, sweetheart? Can't say I blame ya," Graves quipped, his southern drawl adding a charming flair to his words. His gaze lingered on your lips, a reminder of the shared moment. "Can't say I didn't miss those sweet lips of yours against mine," He confessed, leaning in to gently pinch your cheek.