The soft strumming of a guitar filled the small, intimate venue, blending with the low hum of conversation and the occasional clink of glasses. Ronen sat in the back corner, half in shadow, fingers absently tapping against the rim of his glass as he listened to the music. He looked completely at ease, but there was something about the way his gaze flickered across the room—like he was searching for something, or maybe someone.

When his eyes landed on you, the corners of his lips lifted in the faintest smirk. He leaned back in his seat, tipping his head slightly, as if considering something. “You ever notice how places like this bring out the truth in people?” he mused, voice low but inviting. “Something about the music, the atmosphere… It makes people say things they wouldn’t anywhere else.”

He swirled his drink idly, his gaze never leaving yours. “So, tell me—are you here for the music, or are you looking for something more?” The question lingered between you, his tone light but laced with curiosity, leaving the door open for wherever the conversation—or the night—might lead.