Chapter Text
Zoey Raghavan wasn't having it today. Her shift was a nightmare. Coworkers doing jackshit, customers complaining, she even spilt a drink all over pants. Needless to say she wanted to take a break, but that wasn't in the cards for her.
She doesn't usually visit bars like this, especially late at night, but decided to try out a local one. Sitting down at the main bar, her eyes landed on a certain bartender. Short curly hair that had a faded pink tint at the ends, a few facial piercings here and there, and boy did they have many tattoos... it reddened her face to even look at them. They met eye contact for a few seconds, before Zoey snapped out of it and looked down at her hands in embarrassment.
For some reason, the sight of them feels so vaguely familiar, as if she has met them in another life. Silly, she thinks to herself. This is the first time she's ever visited a place like this. Unless they're a frequenter at her own workplace? No, they don't seem like they'd go to Spudsy's, not regularly at least. They seem better than that. Curious, the bartender made their way over to her. "What will you be having today, Zoey?" How the hell do they know her name? She watched them with her mouth hanging open, closing it every few seconds like a fish out of water.
"Um, your name tag." They point out awkwardly. "I figured your name was Zoey." Ah shit. They're right. "S-sorry, I'm not fully in it today." She sighs, exhausted. "I'll have a beer." The bartender nods and gets to work immediately. If their appearance wasn't attractive enough for Zoey, their voice makes her melt completely like a popsicle in the summer heat.
They place the drink in front of her, noticing that she's sketching something in a cheap-looking sketchbook. They stop and admire her sketches of various anime girls. "Artist?" They ask, in which she gives a shy nod. Not many people pique their interest, but something about this closed book of a girl makes them want to ask more questions. "I'm sort of an artist myself. I used to be a tattoo artist, believe it or not." They say sarcastically, gesturing to their many tattoos. Her ears perk up at this string of words. "Really? I don't meet many artists around here." They finish up a drink, sliding it across to another patron, trying to stay in Zoey's perimeter.
"I try to maintain a few hobbies. Although I'm not as good as you seem." An arrow through Zoey's heart. Complimenting her art is a one-way ticket to her heart. "Anyway, the name's Riley. Riley Verselis." She can't help but give a small smile up at them, not used to having someone who presents theirself in such a manner have interest in someone like her.
"Nice to meet you... Um, you know my name, so... Zoey Raghavan." She thinks to herself for a moment, before speaking up again. "I, uh, like your piercings." Compliments, the classic way to flirt subtly as a lesbian. Admittedly, Zoey was never a flirt. Hell, she only has had one boyfriend in her life! Ever since then, she has then realized she wasn't interested at men at all anymore. It took her a while, but she realized she was only with that guy to feel loved. Nowadays, she stays out of the dating game entirely, figuring she wouldn't have any luck.
"Well, thank you darlin'." She fet her knees go weak. The southern in them made her feel something she's never ever felt before. "Your sweater's rather cute. Where'd you get it, hm?" She swallows hard, suddenly feeling the place go warm. "I thrifted it, actually." Zoey mutters, embarrassed to admit she doesn't have the money for trendier clothes. "I've never tried thrifting, might have to take me with you one day." They flash a smile, and it hits Zoey. Are they implying that they should meet again?
"A-ah, yeah, sure. Of course." She stutters, her heart pounding out of her chest and racing like it's running a marathon. "I suppose that means I can get your number?" Riley asks with a hopeful tone in their voice. They hum as they finish up yet another drink. "Of course, let me write it down for y-you..."
"No need." They take her hand, her pen, and swiftly jot down their own set of digits on her palm. If this isn't the corniest shit they've ever done in their life, they don't know what is. Usually they're trying to maintain a more nonchalant facade, but Zoey seems like the type to fall for these kinds of gestures. "There ya go, darlin'." Her heart feels like it would stop any second now. "Have a nice one, and don't leave me hanging." Riley flashes that smile again.
Later that night, Zoey couldn't get any sleep. Nobody has ever treated her like that. She should start going to that bar more often if it means she gets to see that gorgeous bartender more often, the artist thinks to herself.
Riley couldn't either. They never flirt with just anyone, not seriously anyway. This girl didn't seem like their type at all, but something about her felt warm and... familiar. Almost like something was drawing them together. They couldn't say they didn't like the feeling, though.