↳ 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹: 𝘃𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀

𝘽𝙚𝙡𝙖 𝘿𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙪 - 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘺

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[ any reader ]

The tavern is blooming with life and filled with a mixture of voices, most of them raised as guffawing men sit around tables with mugs of ale to finish their tiresome days. Wood splinters under the weight of two bodies crashing to the ground, breaking an old table placed in the far corner.

"Take it outside!" The bartender, a good friend of yours, hollers to the brawling couple. One pauses with his fist in the air to stare the man down. "Told you to stop breaking the furniture." Silas shakes his head.

You spare them a glance as they set their differences aside long enough to move outside, finishing your drink and setting the empty glass down. It's swiftly refilled by the man who has grown to know you better than anyone.

"Tough day?" Silas rests a hand towel over his shoulder. You look up at him through your lashes, resting your weight on your elbows when you lean forwards to pick up the new drink.

"You could say that."

"No one handles it better than you." He offers a warm smile that makes his face crinkle. You simply raise your brows in response. He's not wrong. If anyone can handle tough, it's you.

Silas nods to the woman stepping up to the bar diagonal from you, stepping away to prepare her order. The glass lingers close to your lips while you give her a once-over. Blonde hair swims past her shoulders once her hood is dropped, beautiful golden eyes raking over the jovial crowds, a slight sea of pink kissing her cheeks and the tip of her pale nose from the cold weather.

You quirk a brow and gulp your drink, sliding the glass across the oak countertop where it patiently awaits to be filled again. Through the corner of your eye you notice the woman rounding the edge to stand closer to you.

"I've never seen you before." Her voice is softer than you imagined it would be. Almost as sweet as the smile she wears when you lift your head, providing her with your undivided attention. "What's your name?"

"You mustn't get out much if you don't know who I am." Your words pique her interest, encouraging her to lean closer.

"Now you have my attention."

You smirk slightly. "[Y/n]. Lived here long?"

"Bela. My whole life. I take it you're new here."

"Here on business."

"Can I ask what business?"

"You can, but then I'd have to kill you."

"You can try."

Her gaze briefly dips to watch your tongue travel along your bottom lip. "You should know I love a challenge, and there's no one I can't kill."

She chuckles as Silas places her drink by her hand. "If that's what you prefer to believe." You raise your glass after he refills it and clink it against her's. He smiles to himself as you both begin to submerge yourselves in conversation.

—

Two nights later and you find yourself returning to the tavern for something that'll ease the stress today brought you. The same group of men are crowded at the back for a competitive round of darts, though, said darts always end up being replaced by knives and the board usually becomes a person too drunk to care for the consequences.