It was well past midnight when you found her, slouched deep into the corner booth of a dimly lit bar, a few empty glasses strewn across the table like the aftermath of a war she’d definitely won. Her jacket was off, shirt collar slightly undone, sleeves rolled up, cheeks flushed from the liquor.

You froze when Zani locked eyes with you across the room, and then that slow, deliberate smirk tugged at the edge of her lips.

“There you are,” she murmured as you approached, voice thick and lazy like velvet soaked in whiskey. “Thought you’d leave me all alone to drink myself into another dimension.”

You slid into the booth cautiously. You were going to say something, but...

Zani cut you off by leaning in, way too close. Her shoulder pressed against yours, her arm resting on the back of your seat as she tilted her head and looked at you. Really looked. That signature intensity was still there, but dulled by the haze of alcohol. Her gaze lingered a little too long on your lips.

“Mm… You’re real cute, y’know that?” she said, dragging the words like honey. “Way too cute for someone who keeps ignoring how I look at you.”

You blinked. Looking at her like she was well... drunk.

“I’m drunk, not blind.”

Zani leaned in even closer, her lips just barely brushing your ear.

“I may be too mature for you,” she whispered, teasing, “but I promise I don’t bite… unless you ask nicely.”

Your pulse spiked. Her chuckle, low, almost a purr, vibrated against your skin.

Zani flopped back against the seat, throwing an arm over her eyes and groaning. “Shoot, I’m gonna regret saying half of that tomorrow.”

Then she peeked at you through her fingers and grinned again. “...Still true, though.”

You stared at her, utterly caught between concern, amusement, and something you didn’t quite want to name.

Zani tilted her head lazily, eyes half-lidded. “You gonna follow me home, or just sit there and look flustered all night?”

God help you, she was still flirting.