Lovestruck 💗 [DISCONTINUED]

Burnt Cigar

You met him in a bar late one Saturday night.

He was drowning his sorrows in alcohol just like you were. Huh, it's surprising how many people come to this bar for the same reason.

For a small town, it sure seemed like there was lots of people in it. They all looked the same, dreary and rough.

But him, he looked different. His hair was brushed and his scruffy beard was neatly trimmed back to thin muttonchops that went down his sharp jawline and ended by his chin.

You had to admit that he was pretty cute for a guy his age. He looked to be in his early 30s or so.

You swirled the whiskey around in your glass as you slowly approached him. His eyes were dead set on the table and there was a small glass of what looked to be beer next to his left hand.

You tilted your head, soft folds of brown hair falling in front of your face. You blew them aside, taking a sip of whiskey. The golden liquid trickled down your throat and you felt better. Your attention went back to him when he sighed heavily and folded his fingers together. It seemed like he didn't even know you were there.

"Hey there, what's a guy like you doing around here?" You asked, taking a seat across from him. You weren't afraid to ask questions, nor were you afraid of drunk men in a bar.

He glanced up, his brown eyes glazed over in a haze of alcohol. He rubbed them and sighed again, trying to form words in his mouth. "Nothing... just tryin' to... drink my sorrows away I guess..." he muttered, taking the last sip of beer and sliding his glass away.

"Hm, you and me both. What's bothering you? I know we just met, but you seem like an interesting guy." You flashed a smile at him, your pearly white teeth gleaming.

His eyes widened and he stared at your mouth when you smiled. "You... you got fangs in yer mouth or somethin'?" He mumbled, pointing at your teeth.

Shit, you forgot about those. Your smile faded, those sharp fangs hiding behind your lips. You chuckled nervously and glanced away. "Haha, Nah... you must be drunk, honey." You tried to act as if it was a joke, even though he was eerily right.

A rough chuckle escaped his lips and he leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out. "Okay then... Hey, you got a lighter? I wanna have a cigar."

It just so happened that you had a lighter in your back pocket that you used for lighting small fires and such. "Sure... here you go.." you mumbled, reaching into your pocket and digging out the lighter. You handed it to him, watching him wrap his calloused fingers around it and light the flame.

He pulled out a cigar from his pocket and put the lighter to it, the end of it starting to burn. He clicked it off after his cigar was lit and set it on the table in front of you. "Thanks sweetheart..." he said in a husky voice, placing the cigar in the corner of his mouth and blowing out a puff of smoke.

You giggled, taking the lighter back and putting it away. "Sweetheart... that's an interesting nickname..." you thought, leaning across the table to get a better look at his face.

Close up, he didn't look as well groomed as you thought he did. His hair was ruffled and his face was spotted with dust and dirt. He looked like he'd been working outside for quite some time.

"So... where are you from?" You spoke again, taking another sip of whiskey. By that time, your glass was almost empty and you didn't want anymore alcohol.

"Alberta, Canada." he replied, seeming to be recovering from his drunkenness. That was fast, faster than any man you had ever seen. How did he recover so quickly?

"Hm... that's nice.. I came from Nebraska. Can't remember the town, though..." you mumbled, shifting your weight in the creaky wooden chair.

Glasses clinked at the bar counter as a party of 5 enjoyed a night out together. You paid them no attention, for they were no threat to you. You refocused on him and tapped your fingers on the table. "What's your name?"

"Why do you want to know?" He asked, his tone suddenly growing serious. His thick eyebrows were furrowed into a frown and you felt uncomfortable under his stare.

You forced yourself to be calm and took a deep breath. "Well, I thought I'd ask. It would be a shame to meet a man like you and never learn their name." The corners of your mouth perked up in a small smile, careful not to expose the deadly fangs beneath.

That seemed to soothe him a bit and his shoulders relaxed. He scratched his cheek and ran his fingers through his coarse hair. "Alright then, the name's Logan. Now tell me yours."

"My name is Y/N. The name Logan fits you nicely." You said, feeling your cheeks grow hot.

"Why thank you, Y/N. I think your name compliments your beautiful complexion." Logan said sweetly, a cheeky grin on his face.

You went to giggle when the loud crash of shattering beer bottles interrupted you.

In an instant, Logan was up on his feet and his chair had been pushed down. You wondered what was going on as he rounded the table and shoved you behind him.

"Stay behind me. Things are about to get ugly." He growled, widening his stance and watching the entrance with keen eyes.

You nodded, peering over his shoulder. You didn't realize how tall he actually was until you were right behind him. Compared to him, you were a foot shorter. His arm muscles bulged out and he bared his teeth in a ferocious display.

You found this very attractive, surprisingly. You almost forgot you were in danger because you were too busy admiring him.