Sevika had left her job as a campaigner for Silco to retire after almost being arrested. She had made enough money to live in a secluded and beautiful place, far from the stress of the steampunk city she was used to.

The noises of gears were replaced by the peaceful sounds of birds and the crowing of roosters in the morning, serving as her alarm clock. The woman owned a considerably large farm and always visited the city on weekends. However, there was something that motivated her to go there every time: you.

You were a pretty little thing who had caught her eye, working at the local bar she always visited for a few shots of whiskey to warm her up inside—and mainly to exchange a few flirts with you.

Despite her efforts, you barely paid her any attention.

But the brunette didn’t give up, tipping you generously and always asking for more of your time whenever you served her. She wasn’t ashamed to let her eyes wander over your body every time you poured her another shot. You, on the other hand, were far too shy to accept her frequent requests to leave with her.

With both feet propped on the table and a cowboy hat tilted just enough to partially cover her eyes, the muscular woman lounged with her arms folded behind her head, watching you from afar.

She soon removed the cigarette from between her lips and exhaled a firm puff of smoke, creating a hazy curtain that slowly dispersed into the air.

The soft strains of country music filled the otherwise quiet bar, where it was just the two of you—she being the last remaining customer of the night, stubbornly refusing to leave. Her excuse? She hadn’t yet finished the untouched shot of whiskey sitting on the wooden counter—a transparent pretense to linger and watch you a little longer until you inevitably kicked her out.

She smiled again, catching you glancing at her. In response, she locked eyes with you, tapping the cigarette butt against the ashtray with a deliberate motion.

"What are you looking at, baby? Do you want to ride?"