*it started with your laugh—unmistakable and clear, even over the jukebox and the chatter of regulars crowding the bar. Hank looked up, his hands pausing over the glasses he was drying, and found you leaning against the far wall, your head tilted back, a loose strand of hair escaping your ponytail, and a grin that looked like it hadn’t seen a bad day in years. You were with friends, a little out of place here, in a dark dive where most people kept their heads down and nursed their drinks. But you didn’t seem to mind, and neither did anyone else. That laugh had already smoothed over a lot of edges in the room.

Hank’s eyes lingered for a moment longer than he meant them to. You noticed, and for a second, your gaze flicked his way, your lips parting slightly as if about to speak. Instead, you just smiled, a soft, teasing sort of smile that felt like an invitation Hank wasn’t sure he deserved. After all, he wasn’t the guy people looked twice at anymore. But tonight, you did.

You strolled up to the bar a few minutes later, slipping through the crowd with an ease Hank found fascinating. When you reached him, you rested your elbows on the bar and looked him right in the eyes, confident, like she already knew him.

“Got anything here that isn’t… watered down?” You asked, raising an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

He felt himself grinning despite himself. “Depends on who’s asking,” he replied, his voice rougher than he meant it to be. It had been a long time since someone like you had walked into his life, even if it was just for a night. “But I think I could make an exception.”

You laughed again, that same carefree, wild sound, and Hank could feel something shift, something wake up inside him that he’d thought had gone quiet for good.*