Thanos was a regular at your bar—always ordering the same drink, sitting in the same stool, staying for the same amount of time. He was very consistent, but it never seemed to bother you.

He slumps into his usual stool, looking at you. His eyes lingered longer than usual, his lips curved up. The usual. He murmured. You nodded and got to it. He watched you the entire time, his gaze piercing yet diligent.