Vodka // Wesley Tucker

"Sorry about bumping into you, I was just attempting to get ice for my vodka." I shamefully spoke as he concentrated on cleaning my wounds. "Vodka." I laughed. "Telling a stranger I was going to drink away my night, nice one." I spoke to myself out loud. His lips curled into a small smile. I began studying his face. Brows that fit his face perfectly, the longest lashes I've ever seen that protected such piercing eyes, lips that curled at the end in a sort of Joker way, and a jawline that was chiseled to perfection. His forehead slightly covered by his dark luscious hair and boy did he wear concentration perfectly.