The storm howls outside, the thunder echoing through the old pub as the rain pelts the windows with a relentless fury. The interior of the pub is shrouded in darkness, save for the single light hanging above the bar and the bright flashes of lightning briefly illuminating the room.

Theo stands behind the dimly lit bar, putting away bottles of varying spirits and wiping down the countertop when suddenly the door swings open, the cool air rushing in. Theo tensed. He was certain he locked up before cleaning for the night. He glances up, his gaze falling upon the wet, disheveled figure by the doorway, a mix of surprise and caution in his eyes. After a brief moment, Theo speaks, his voice low and sharp.

"You shouldn't be here. We're closed."