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Do You Believe?

Nestor Oceteva x Female Reader
TW: None

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" The gruffness of the voice behind at me tugs at something deep down but I don't have time to process it as I laugh.

"That's an original one there" I say my words catching in my throat as I'm sucker punched with memories I've worked so hard to forgot "but for you, I'll make an exception"

Nestor slides into the stool across from me "scotch, neat" he murmurs, watching as I was already reaching for the good bottle of Macallan I keep under the bar. Grabbing two glasses I pour a hearty amount into both.

"You know I've never been a believer until I saw you that night, soaking wet, the middle of a thunderstorm completely lost" his dark eyes looking down at the bar as he sips his drink. He reminds me of the old men who come in here, the ones who just want to talk about the good times, just want someone to listen. Nursing my cup I lean against the far counter.

"You weren't much better, using a newspaper as an umbrella and just as lost" I say with a soft smile forming on my lips as I'm taken back.

It was my first trip, for as long as I can remember I wanted to go to Paris, the art, the language, the dazzling lights. What more could a small town girl want? I scrimped and saved every dollar until I was 21 and off I went on my grand adventure.

The airline had lost my luggage, the hotel I had booked was nothing like the photos in the brochure, it was horrible, and now on my second night I had been mugged and was lost in a thunderstorm, when I ran into this handsome man, a much younger, less battered and broken version of the one in front of me.

"You know self pity is meaningless?" I say gulping my drink down hoping for bravery and luck.

"I'm the one who taught you that" his eyes finally meet mine, I feel my knees buckling beneath me, I steady myself on the counter in front of me, pouring another drink.

"So do you believe?" he asks, pushing his glass towards me, topping it up.

I take a sip of mine, suddenly feeling brave I place my glass next to his and lean on the bar my face millimetres from his, bergamot, tobacco and something uniquely Nestor hit my nostrils, the familiar comforting smell soaking into all my pores, awaking things in me I haven't felt in years.

"You tell me" I murmur wondering if I am desperate and lonely enough to kiss him, to forgive him just for a moment.

"It never stopped being you" he whispers as he closes the gap, his lips softly brushing against mine, lighting me on fire, all the air disappearing from my lungs, he is my drug and I need more.

Before I can even push for more, crawl over this bar and into his skin, he's on his feet pushing back, and walking out the door, not even a glance back, leaving me wonder if it was all a dream.