imagines [c.s.]

the bar

I met him in the bar. He was sitting there, a dark ale in his hand, his dark hair ruffled and his smile rugged.

"Hey, princess," he winked at me as I sat down. I shifted, feeling his gaze on me.

"A jack and coke, please," I turned my attention away from him and towards the bartender.

"If I had your number, I'd chemi-call you every day," he whispered to me. I flushed.

"What's your name, pretty boy?" I asked, taking another sip from my drink, noticing how attractive his eyes were.

"Cole. I'm Cole Sprouse," he leaned in as he spoke, so much that I could feel his breath and smell the alcohol on it. It was almost as intoxicating as he was. "What about you?"

"Y/N," I replied, shooting the rest of my bitter drink. I smiled at him. "Wanna dance?" He held out his hand and I took it. A slow song came on, and I rested my head on his chest as we swayed. I breathed in his scent, feeling the alcohol take over.

"Do you play the trumpet?" I asked suddenly, pulling my head up. He looked confused.

"No, why?" He replied, not realizing what I was doing.

"Because you make me horny," I smirked at him. Under the dim lights, I saw his flush. I pulled out a slip of paper and wrote my phone number down on it. "Call me sometime."

With that I left the bar, hoping I would see him some time soon.