Status: Chaptered, Active (:
More Than it Seems
Chapter Three
The clock that was hung against the wall at the far end of the bar maintained a consistent routine, striking each second with its universal ‘tick, tock’. I spotted various customers, most of whom I knew from daily encounters at this time, presenting me a quick salute before heading for the door. I nodded my head each time before responding with a generous, “take care”, for every other person while I waited for the uncanny stranger seated before me to claim his order. Briefly diverting his amber gaze from mine to the classy surface of the counter, he cleared his throat before reverting his attention back to me.
“Just give me a Scotch on the Rocks, I guess,” he blandly commanded.
I nodded at him in understanding as I swiveled my body in the opposite direction, aiming to clutch an empty shot glass from the shelf that was located not too far from a ripe bottle of Glenlivet. With both securely in my grasp, I turned to place them in front of the man as I fished out a couple ice cubes from the container I had detected with the keen use of my peripheral vision. Since he ordered a simple drink that only contained ice and a selected amount of hard liquor, I failed to conceive a proper bartending trick that I was noted to be a natural talent at. After eyeballing a substantial amount of liquid inside of the shot glass, I gently set the high-class bottle of Scotch on top of the lower shelf that was hidden comfortably behind the bar as I slid the alcoholic beverage in the stranger’s direction.
Tonight was surely not the night for an ID check.
I watched intently as he slowly grappled his fingers around the circumference of the shot, dragging it nearer to him. I was confused as to whether or not he ordered the drink to either fiddle with it alone or to down his sorrows, similar to everyone else she has managed to come across. His thick index finger loomed above the rounded edges of the glass, brushing the delicate tip along the rim. Every movement he made somehow struck me with a feeling of intrigue each time. I was so focused on his simple actions that I almost forgot to address the price. As soon as I mentioned the number of digits he was required to pay, something must have rung inside his head because, at that moment, he unexpectedly glanced up at me once more.
Unlike the former, the smirk that slowly crept across his sublime face was the kind that sprouted a sense of danger. His eyes narrowed until they almost resembled that of two thin slits with the exception of a blaring gold glinting behind each one. A dark chuckle escaped from his lips as he casually shook his head, not leaving my sight for one moment. “And are you really sure you want to do that, little girl?” he pressed as he indicated the label printed across my bust in fine letters. The arch of his right eyebrow raised as he waited for my retort.
Maintaining a collected image, I grasped the fabric of a soiled rag as I softly chuckled in response to his cocky inquisition. Wiping at the miniscule stains gracing the top of the counter, I glanced at him with a sneer expression materializing in my eyes. Leaning into his malignant presence until my face suspended only a foot away from his, I peered at him with an equally astute look plastered on my silhouette. “Here’s a fine suggestion. How about you pay before I show you the kind of girl I really am.”
The smirk cast on his face widened to the extent that I truly perceived him to resemble that of the devil. Leaning back in his stool, the tenseness in his broad shoulders gradually decreased. He lifted the shot to his lips, the cold rim caressing the luscious bit of flesh that expertly bulged from the rest of his silky complexion. “Feisty,” he said as he concisely cocked his eyebrow at me. “I like that.” He immediately tossed his head back as he downed the remnants of the shot in one round, exaggerating a content, “ah”, after setting it aside on the marble, sliding it toward me.
“Tab, it is,” I proclaimed, snatching the empty glass in disgust as I set it down in the sink beside the lower shelf located guardedly behind the bar. Precipitously, I looked back at him with an agitated grimace. “Honestly, who do you think you are?” I exclaimed in frustration.
Just as quickly as I interrogatively spat out those words, his face merged into a glower of pure detriment. “Honestly. Wouldn’t you like to know.” And with that, he left without another word, leaving me in an obscure haze. But little did I know, this was going to be the least of my worries by the time dawn struck the humble city of Calyx, Maine.
“Just give me a Scotch on the Rocks, I guess,” he blandly commanded.
I nodded at him in understanding as I swiveled my body in the opposite direction, aiming to clutch an empty shot glass from the shelf that was located not too far from a ripe bottle of Glenlivet. With both securely in my grasp, I turned to place them in front of the man as I fished out a couple ice cubes from the container I had detected with the keen use of my peripheral vision. Since he ordered a simple drink that only contained ice and a selected amount of hard liquor, I failed to conceive a proper bartending trick that I was noted to be a natural talent at. After eyeballing a substantial amount of liquid inside of the shot glass, I gently set the high-class bottle of Scotch on top of the lower shelf that was hidden comfortably behind the bar as I slid the alcoholic beverage in the stranger’s direction.
Tonight was surely not the night for an ID check.
I watched intently as he slowly grappled his fingers around the circumference of the shot, dragging it nearer to him. I was confused as to whether or not he ordered the drink to either fiddle with it alone or to down his sorrows, similar to everyone else she has managed to come across. His thick index finger loomed above the rounded edges of the glass, brushing the delicate tip along the rim. Every movement he made somehow struck me with a feeling of intrigue each time. I was so focused on his simple actions that I almost forgot to address the price. As soon as I mentioned the number of digits he was required to pay, something must have rung inside his head because, at that moment, he unexpectedly glanced up at me once more.
Unlike the former, the smirk that slowly crept across his sublime face was the kind that sprouted a sense of danger. His eyes narrowed until they almost resembled that of two thin slits with the exception of a blaring gold glinting behind each one. A dark chuckle escaped from his lips as he casually shook his head, not leaving my sight for one moment. “And are you really sure you want to do that, little girl?” he pressed as he indicated the label printed across my bust in fine letters. The arch of his right eyebrow raised as he waited for my retort.
Maintaining a collected image, I grasped the fabric of a soiled rag as I softly chuckled in response to his cocky inquisition. Wiping at the miniscule stains gracing the top of the counter, I glanced at him with a sneer expression materializing in my eyes. Leaning into his malignant presence until my face suspended only a foot away from his, I peered at him with an equally astute look plastered on my silhouette. “Here’s a fine suggestion. How about you pay before I show you the kind of girl I really am.”
The smirk cast on his face widened to the extent that I truly perceived him to resemble that of the devil. Leaning back in his stool, the tenseness in his broad shoulders gradually decreased. He lifted the shot to his lips, the cold rim caressing the luscious bit of flesh that expertly bulged from the rest of his silky complexion. “Feisty,” he said as he concisely cocked his eyebrow at me. “I like that.” He immediately tossed his head back as he downed the remnants of the shot in one round, exaggerating a content, “ah”, after setting it aside on the marble, sliding it toward me.
“Tab, it is,” I proclaimed, snatching the empty glass in disgust as I set it down in the sink beside the lower shelf located guardedly behind the bar. Precipitously, I looked back at him with an agitated grimace. “Honestly, who do you think you are?” I exclaimed in frustration.
Just as quickly as I interrogatively spat out those words, his face merged into a glower of pure detriment. “Honestly. Wouldn’t you like to know.” And with that, he left without another word, leaving me in an obscure haze. But little did I know, this was going to be the least of my worries by the time dawn struck the humble city of Calyx, Maine.