Her

t h r e e

She was serving tables at the local bar, her hair tied up in a loose bun. Strands feel around her face, which she angrily blew away. He chuckled at her annoyance, turning back around. The bartender, a slightly older female smiled mischievously. Her fiery red hair curling in bunches around her freckled, pale face.

"Got your eye on that one?" She asks, her voice laced with a thick Scottish accent.

"I'm not quite sure yet" He replied lazily, drinking the rest of his drink. The harsh alcohol burned his throat soothingly. The bartender refilled, before motioning the woman over. She did so, managing to carry 4 shot glasses in her hands on her way. Her eyes inspected him, a small smirk tugging at her pouty lips when she recognised him.

"Your shift's over, have a drink" The bartender says. She shrugs, sitting on the stool next to him. He watched in amusement as she chugged a glass with ease. The bartender refilled before sliding back to the other side.

"We always seem to cross paths, don't we?" She mused, looking to the boy sitting beside him.

"I guess so" He replied, taking a chug of his own drink. Suddenly, her hand cruised across the counter. Her long, tattooed fingers circling around his glass. In a swift movement, she drank the rest, her eyes closing slightly.

"Vodka and lime, my favourite" She smirks. He, in return, chugs the remainder of hers. Burgundy, nice choice. As the night went on, morally corrupt choices ensued. Drinking too much and smoking in the alleyway out back. Somehow, during the blurred perception, the innocence of their conversations disappeared and by morning, he woke up in her bed.