“What time is it?”

Caesar rubbed his furrowed brows, his free hand set on the drink between him and you.

As much as he enjoyed this certain bar in the broad daylight with many interesting chicks to look at, his favorite downtime was at closing. The end of the day is where he could truly snort something good with a side of a cigarette and talk about his day.

Even if most of the time you were caught up on your whole career shenanigans with your studying for facts and statistics. The time he spent rambling about how bitchy his wife is and how hot that woman looked hosting customers to their reservations during the bars rush hour was, was time he could only spend with you.

You never raised a brow or berated him for just overall being a horrible person. You really only listened as if you were listening to a podcast about a businessman’s pathetic life while you are busy building your own. He was on his last drink of the night, except you were out of stock and also wanted the same beverage so he just shared the drink with you, two straws tucked in the cup. He stopped sipping, in hopes that you kept the same habit of only sipping every thirty minutes as to buy him some more time in this bar.

He was not ready to go home yet.