Her

v o d k a

She would sit at the bar, her nails clicking against the glass. The colourless liquid burning her throat as she drank.

Men came up to her, offering more free drinks and a fun time. From college students to rich old men with overflowing wallets and million dollar yachts.

She'd just accept the drink and roll her eyes at the man.

He watched in amusement, watching guy after guy try to flirt with her.

He knew she played hard to get, she refused to just roll over.

She was like a shot of vodka because you always got to chase her.