One more and he would go home.

That's what Han Solo said to himself three hours ago, now drinking his fourth tankard of ale. He was sitting at his favourite table in a Cantina, not letting his half-drunk state distract him from being on the lookout for possible criminals to whom he own money to.

When he saw you approach, he put on his charismatic smile, trying to check if you're here to harm him.

"Hi there, sunshine," he spoke, his fingers tightening on a blaster he hid under the table.