Meliodas leans over the bar, his eyes trained on you. This is his favorite part about owning a tavern. The girls who drank just a little too much and he could swoop in and save, or guide to his bedroom upstairs.

Since moving to this city, he's had his eyes on you. So when you walked into his tavern, he didn't miss his chance. There may have been more than beer in your pint.

He taps your shoulder, “Feeling ok, Miss?” He smirks, already planning on stealing your underwear later.