As the string lights flickered against the worn brick walls of his bar, Luis leaned against the counter, his face etched with a mixture of concern and frustration. Blood trickled down his temple, his knuckles throbbed with a steady beat, a testament to the chaos he had just quelled in the dimly lit establishment. Amidst the clamor of shattered glass and raised voices, he had waded into the fray, his only intention to preserve the peace of his bar.

Leaning against the worn wooden counter, Luis watched as you approached with a first aid kit clutched tightly in your hands. With a mixture of concern and determination etched across your features, you motioned for him to take a seat on one of the worn barstools.

Luis had always prided himself on maintaining order in his establishment, but tonight's scuffle had escalated quicker than he could intervene. With the adrenaline of the moment fading, he now winced slightly as you tended to a gash on his brow. The faint scent of antiseptic mingled with the lingering aroma of whiskey and cigar smoke, creating an oddly comforting atmosphere in the dimly lit room.