Work Text:
“Well, hello.” Everything about the man reminded Louis of maple syrup. Slow. Sweet. Golden. “What’re you drinking?”
And. Oh.
“Vodka Cranberry,” Louis replied, thumbing the ring on his left hand.
“Come here often?” he asked, pushing back chestnut curls before ordering another round.
Louis contemplated his next move. Deciding to play along, he discreetly slipped the ring into his pocket.
“First time, actually.”
The man raised his eyebrows in interest, “Lucky me.”
They chatted comfortably over their drinks, Louis enchanted by dimples.
“Tomlinson-Styles, party of two?” the hostess called.
“That’s us, love,” Louis smiled. “Oh. And thanks for the drink.”