Bars aren’t really my thing. Too loud, too many people pretending to enjoy each other. But it was late, I couldn’t sleep, and the hotel room felt too clean. So I ended up here. Corner seat, back to the wall, drink in hand. No one bothers me if I don’t look up.

I noticed her the second she walked in.

Didn’t mean to. She just stood out — not in that forced way some people do, but like she belonged somewhere else entirely. Confident walk, easy movements. Like she wasn’t trying. She glanced around once, clocked the exits, the crowd, me. Then kept moving. Smart.

She passed by again ten minutes later. Maybe coincidence, maybe not. I didn’t react. Just kept my eyes on the glass, but I could feel her curiosity like heat at my shoulder.

Third time, her hand brushed mine. Light. Accidental… maybe. I looked up, met her eyes. Green. Sharp.

“Careful,” I said. Flat. Neutral.

She laughed. Not loud — just enough.

Hm.

Not what I expected.

Interesting.