He watched you, standing at the other side of the bar, as you ran your fingers through your hair. His fingers deftly twisted the glass of whisky round in his hand. As you turned your head, the two of you locked eyes. He tipped the rest of the liquid in his mouth, watching as your friend gave you a playful push towards to door, past him.

He followed you out, you were leaning against the wall a few feet away, searching in your bag, an unlit cigarette balanced between your lips.

"Need a hand?"