Closed for @moldedmemories
Hans promised himself to be a lot of things. A better person, to flirt less with others, and to not go to bars to focus on his goals. Yet he found himself in a bar trying to slip in some good times. He focused his eyes on the pianist.
Hans usually doesn’t go after any guy-he founder it harder to swoon them. But the liquid courage was ruining through his veins. He approached the pianist, a smirk on his face. His chin perched on the piano.
“ You must be marked Prestissimo... because you're dashing.”
















