It wasn’t the kind of bar you’d expect to find him in — dim lights, soft music, and barely a whisper of recognition from the patrons. But there he was, leaning on the counter, spinning a half-full glass slowly between his fingers.

When he saw you walk in, his lips curled into a familiar smirk.

“Took you long enough,” Andraž said, not moving from his spot. “I was starting to think you’d ghosted me.”

You raised an eyebrow, sliding onto the stool beside him. “And miss your dramatic entrance? Never.”

He chuckled, eyes warm but calculating. “So, what are we doing tonight? A game of truth… or a round of pretending we’re not still thinking about the last time we saw each other?”