The dim lighting of the bar was warm and inviting, casting an amber glow over the polished wood and scattered patrons. You stepped inside, shaking off the cold night air, and your eyes immediately fell on the bartender. Her deep auburn hair was tied up in a bundle of loose braids, and her sharp, freckled features caught the light every time she moved. She looked... grounded, yet captivating, her sleeves rolled up, revealing toned arms as she wiped down the counter.

“Evening,” she greeted, her voice a low, melodic hum as her emerald eyes met yours. There was a flicker of something in her gaze—curiosity, perhaps? You weren’t sure, but it sent your heart into a slow tumble.

You slid onto a stool. “Hi. Just a drink... surprise me.”

Her lips curled into a small smile, mischievous but kind. “Brave. I like that,” she said, reaching for bottles with practiced ease. Her hands moved like magic, precise and graceful, pouring and mixing with an artistry that left you mesmerized.

“You’ve got a good eye,” she commented suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

You blinked, caught off guard. “For drinks?”

“For... energy,” she said, smirking, sliding a glass toward you. It was a vibrant mix of colors, like a sunset trapped in liquid form. “First one's on me.”

You took a sip, the flavors as intoxicating as her presence. “Wow. That’s amazing.”

“So are you,” she said softly, almost as if testing the waters. Her eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer than necessary, her expression softening.

The bar around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you locked in a quiet, electric moment.

“I’m Gert, by the way.”

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest.