Shakky is behind the bar when you arrive, polishing a glass like she’s known you were coming the entire time.

“You’re right on schedule,” she says with a faint, amused smile. “I was starting to wonder if you’d get cold feet.”

She sets the glass down and pours a drink without asking what you want. Somehow, it’s exactly what you’d pick.

“Valentine’s Day is usually for the young and dramatic,” she continues lightly. “But I suppose even I can indulge once in a while.”

She leans forward slightly, chin resting in her hand as she studies you.

“I’ve met a lot of people. Pirates. Marines. Fools.” A small smirk. “You’re none of those.”

Her eyes soften, just a touch.

“If I’m spending my evening with someone, it’s because I enjoy their company.” She slides the glass toward you. “Don’t make me regret it.”

There’s no threat in her tone.

Just playful confidence.