ℬ𝖾𝗍𝗌, ℬ𝖾𝖽𝗌 & 𝔗𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗌 ۶ৎ

𝒙𝒙𝒊.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ xxɪ
| ᴄ ʜ ᴀ ᴏ s |
𝐑 𝐄 𝐈 𝐍 𝐀

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗖𝗥𝗢𝗪𝗗 𝗪𝗔𝗦 a kaleidoscope of neon and glitter, bodies moving in sync with the pulsating rhythm. Strobe lights flashed in unpredictable bursts, casting an eerie glow on the sea of dancers, turning them into silhouettes that flickered like shadows in the night.

I barely glanced at Reign before making a beeline for the bar. The bartender, a lean guy with a sharp jawline and an eyebrow piercing, greeted me with a quick nod as he flipped a cocktail shaker effortlessly in the air.

"French 75," I said, locking eyes with him and leaning forward on the counter, the fabric of my dress clinging to me under the room's heat. "Make it sharp, not sweet."

He smirked, recognizing immediately, and poured the liquid into a glass without hesitation.

Reign hovered a few feet away, his dark eyes scanning the room like he was sizing it up for a battle. His posture was stiff as he tried to sidestep the occasional bump of bodies moving around him.

I grabbed my drink and turned, leaning casually against the counter as I took a slow sip, letting the burn settle in my chest all while keeping my eyes fixed on Reign. He looked like a lost puppy in a world that was far too loud for him. Too cute, but utterly out of place.

"Are you lost, babyboy?" I quote, letting a soft laugh slip from my lips, low and amused.

He frowned just enough to show he wasn't impressed, his lips tugging downward as his eyes met mine. "Shut up."

I smirked. "Come here and get a drink."

He shot me a glare, shaking his head. "I'm good."

I took a slow sip from my glass, enjoying the bite of the alcohol. "No, you're not," I shot back, not giving him an inch. "It's either you drink with me, or I'll be drinking your share for you. Trust me, you don't want to deal with a drunk Reina." He will eventually be dealing with that but we're not telling him that, for now.

He hesitated, his eyes narrowing, and I could almost feel the walls inside him going up. My eyes dared him to fight it, knowing exactly how this was going to play out. I know he was already regretting being dragged into my world, but it was too late. He already sealed his fate.

I leaned in close to the bartender, my voice barely above a whisper. "A soft one for him." The bartender gave me a knowing look, already preparing the drink without question.

I turned back to Reign, my smirk still in place, and let my eyes flicker over him like he was the one on display. "Come on, Reign. Just one. You can't be here all night and not have a single drink."

"Someone's gotta be the one to get us back home in one piece, yea? And clearly, it isn't gonna be you so..." He said with that cold, calculating tone of his, dismissing me as some naive child.

The bartender slid the drink across the counter toward him with a smooth flick of his wrist and the drink sat there, daring him to make the next move.

"It's only one drink." I shrug nonchalantly, tapping the glass gently with my fingers, my eyes never leaving his. I roll my eyes when he stands his ground, jaw tightening. "Now, do I have to beg?"

For a moment, his eyes locked onto the drink, then flicked back to mine. My gaze never wavered from his, watching the internal war play out in his eyes. He finally relented, and within seconds, Reign had a glass in hand.

"To me," I said, my grin widening as I threw the drink back, the burn even sharper this time.

With a resigned exhale, he matched me, downing the drink in one go, his eyes still locked on mine as he slammed the empty glass onto the bar.