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That night at Joe's bar wasn't anything too special, but it was perfect. It wasn't suffocatingly crowded, but there were just enough patrons to create a low hum of conversation and laughter, effectively masking the clinking of glasses. The music faded into the background as Blake found herself fixated on a man perched on a stool at the far end of the bar.
A flicker of recognition sparked in her mind, a memory teasing at the edges of her awareness. She narrowed her eyes, trying to place him. He was older than her, but definitely not more than two years. His build was lean and athletic, but not bulky, suggesting a man comfortable in his own skin and familiar with physical exertion. Short, dark curls framed his face sculpted with strong angles and warm brown skin. A neatly trimmed beard dusted his jaw, adding a touch of ruggedness.
He was nursing a drink, a dark amber liquid swirling in the glass held loosely in his hand. He seemed lost in thought, a frown etching lines between his brows that hinted at a story untold. There was an air of solitude about him, an invisible shield keeping him separate from the vibrant energy of the bar. Yet, a vulnerability flickered in his dark eyes, a flicker that piqued Blake's curiosity and ignited a sudden urge to bridge the gap between them.
Just as Blake contemplated approaching him, Izzie's voice cut through her reverie. "Hello? Earth to Blake!" She said, waving her hand in front of Blake's face.
Blake blinked, momentarily disoriented. "Yeah? What? Sorry," she responded, shaking herself out of a trance, the memory of the man's brooding intensity clinging to her like smoke.
