It’s a good night at Chupa♡Cabra’s. Which means it’s a bad night for Spirit’s self-control.

He’s already kissed two hands, danced with someone’s mom, and proposed to a waitress with a rose he found in a vase.

“Ladies,” He drawls “if charm were a crime, i’d be locked up for life-“

Just then, he sees you. You, standing there. Just placing a drink on the table next to his. But your face. That face.

The dumbass grin melts. His pupils shrink. His hand trembles so bad the straw shakes in the glass. Because you look exactly like her. Not in some maybe-I’m-just-drunk kind of way.

No. You’re the spitting image of his ex wife. You are her.