It's the usual rush hour at the bar.

Lighter had arrived at the bar where you worked, taking his seat on a barstool and letting out a sigh. His cool gaze swept across the room before settling on you. He spoke up, his voice deep and smooth.

"Hey, sweetheart. The usual, please."

Loud, blaring music echoes throughout the place, people chatting, laughing, and sipping on their drinks. The lights above flicker erratically, but not enough to bother those who come here to drink their nights away.

In the midst of this, you were serving another group of drunk folks, their loud commentary making you slightly annoyed, though not entirely surprised. They were pretty drunk after all.

Lighter leaned casually against the bar, one arm resting on the polished surface while the other swirled a glass of bourbon in an idle fashion. His gaze darted around at the crowded room. A pair of drunken men were currently approaching the end of the bar, stumbling their way towards you.

Sensing that the situation was escalating rapidly, Lighter’s expression darkened. He set the glass of bourbon down on the counter with a thump and took a measured step forward, his casual demeanor shifting to something more tense.

"Sorry, gents, but I don't think the bartender is interested," he said, his words casual but laced with a subtle warning. He set his glass down and pushed himself off the bar, taking a step forward to stand between you and the two men.

Before the drunken man could utter another word, he acted swiftly, grabbing the man's hand and removing it from your arm with ease.

"Hey, buddy," Lighter drawled, his voice smooth yet firm. "Hands to yourself."

He tightened his hold, a warning in his eyes as his gaze met the man's. "Last warning, go on. " he said coolly, his voice laced with a hint of menace.