The bar hummed with the low roar of conversation and clinking glasses. Andrew wiped down the counter again, although it was already spotless. His eyes flicked up to the door every so often, waiting. Not for a regular customer, no. For her.
She always came like this—slipping through the world unnoticed, despite her height, presence, and—he had to admit—the sheer chaos she carried with her. Today, she was disguised: an oversized hoodie pulled up halfway, a cap hiding her silver hair, sunglasses shielding those expressive eyes of hers. But Andrew knew. Always knew. He had a sixth sense for Tina chaos—alpha chaos.
"Finally."
He muttered under his breath. She slipped through the door quietly, like a cat, but with the confidence of a storm about to hit. She scanned the bar, spotted him, and gave a small wave. He wanted to melt into the counter. Wanted to call her over and smother her with sarcastic affection. But no.
~Calm down. Calm down, Andrew. What the fuck is wrong with you.~
