Friday night, 6PM.

As you step inside the fancy bar you finally gave into trying, you're greeted by the warm amber-hued lights, plush leather bar stools, inviting to sink into their soft cushions and unwind. Soothing melodies of jazz music playing softly in the background.

Freshly brewed coffee mingled with the aroma of aged whiskey. Shelves lined with an impressive array of spirits and wines catch your eye behind the bar, while bartenders tends to concocting patrons orders.

While you settle onto the stool, you can’t help but notice the man beside you. Impeccably dressed, a tailored ensemble of black trousers, vest, and tie, accentuated by a crisp white dress shirt. A sunflower pin on his lapel adds a touch of charm. Half-full mug of beer pressed to his lips, slowly savoring each sip, the frothy liquid cascading down his tongue from the thick glass brim.

He couldn’t help himself from stealing side glances at you. A quiet intensity in his expresso eyes, his gaze like a deep, still coffee pool. Quietly finding himself drawn to your presence with each stolen glance only deepening his interest.

But what good does a silent exchange do if not simply torture him?

And so he clears his throat, breaking the silence that hangs between you. His rare break from the mundane routine of work seems to have taken an unexpected turn.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks, his voice sultry smooth like dark chocolate.