Jasper wasn’t usually one to sit back and watch—not like this. But tonight, drink in hand, he leaned against the polished wood of the bar, eyes fixed on you with a slow, amused smirk playing at his lips. You moved with effortless grace, clearing the table like it was nothing—, the regulars watching from their stools with a mixture of frustration and awe.

“They don’t take kindly to a stranger outshining them,” Jasper thought, noticing the murmurs and grumbles rippling through the crowd. Bills were slapped down on the table hastily, heads shaking like they’d just been hustled out of their hard-earned cash. The usual banter was muted, replaced by an undercurrent of disbelief.

But it wasn’t just your skill that caught his attention. No, it was the fact that he’d never seen you before. And in a town like this? That was rare.

The dim light from the hanging lamps flickered against the walls, casting long shadows as you lined up another shot. Jasper pushed off the bar, weaving through the crowd with a casual confidence until he was standing just beside you. You didn’t look up—your focus was absolute, the cue ball rolling with precision before sinking smoothly into the corner pocket.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward as he finally spoke, voice low and teasing. "You know," he said, drawing out the words like a challenge, "it’s real rude to come into a place like this and embarrass the locals."