Sinful Duty

Chapter 1

Cursing herself for being here at this time, Elizabeth stood in front of a bar she found herself going to more than she'd like to. But what other choice did she have? Drowning herself in alcohol seemed like the only thing that'd bring her any comfort.

She wore what she'd normally wear when she found herself in this bar. It wasn't anything too fancy; just a deep v-neck t-shirt that shows more cleavage than she'd like, and a pair of light-wash jeans that likely show off her curves, but she didn't bring herself to care. She knew she was pretty; she had guys hitting on her all the time. Of course, she always rejected them, but there wasn't much else she could do. Except for the times where she had accepted them, but that's in the past.

Her silver hair gets softly blown by the wind as she clutches her purse tight when she opens the door leading into the bar. The cool air of the AC hits her skin, and she lightly shivers from the contact. Immediately, she feels everyone's eyes on her, but she tries to shrug it off as she walks over to the bar and slides herself onto a stool.

The bartender turns around and looks at Elizabeth. His amethyst eyes boar into her aqua ones, and it makes her smile. His ginger hair moves with him as he tilts his head to the side.

"Back again, Miss Liones?" He chuckles. Elizabeth narrows her eyes at him, and it only causes the man to laugh a bit harder.

"Hush, Arthur," she scolds. "And don't call me Miss Liones, alright? Elizabeth is fine."

Arthur turns around and grabs a bottle of whiskey. "Haha, alright, Elizabeth. The usual, I assume?" Elizabeth lays her purse on her lap and sighs. She hums her approval in response, looking at the plethora of bottles of alcohol to distract herself from the reasons as to why she's here again.

Drinking alcohol was one of the more effective ways that actually relives her stress. Her father, Bartra Liones (and also the president of the entire country), wanted her to work as a government official, which is something she never wanted to do. If she was honest with herself, she wasn't sure what she wanted to do as a job. She loved taking care of animals, but she also loved doing art.

She was torn between actually complying with her father, or actually choosing something that'd make her happy. Elizabeth heavily sighed as Arthur pushed her drink towards her. She looks up from her lap to look into his purple eyes, and shows her appreciation with the brightest smile she could muster. The ginger haired man puts both his elbows on the counter of the bar and leans against them. "So, what's wrong?"

"What makes you think something is wrong?" Elizabeth counters. But she knows he's right. Her father has done nothing but pressure her into taking a position into the government. She doesn't want any part because she knows how terrible the government is. They're all horrible people. Elizabeth trusts her father; don't get her wrong, but... She just does not have a good feeling about him being president.

He flashes her smile as she takes a sip from her whiskey. "Well, for one," Arthur begins, "you only come here when you're fairly stressed, and you brought your good purse with you," he says as he points a finger on the counter above her legs where she placed her purse. Elizabeth looks at him with slightly wide eyes, and realizes that maybe she's known him for far longer than she thought.

"Plus, it's your seventh time here this week," he adds. "It's Wednesday."

She tries her hardest to stop a blush from coming onto her cheeks, but they already feel warm. She tries to hide her face from him with another gulp of her drink. "Alright, fine. You got me," she admits defeat.

"What's wrong?" He prompts once again. Elizabeth puts her cup down and traces her finger around the rim.

"Don't you have other people to service?" She tries to distract.