ββοΈ. β aelin goldwake / closed starter / @sorensilverpine
aelin hadnβt expected quiet in a bar. yet there it was β tucked into a corner of the bar beneath low amber lights, the noise of the broken city dulled just enough to be bearable. heβd come in for the same reason most people did: something cold, something strong, something that made the day loosen its grip. he was halfway through scanning the shelves behind the bar when he turned and nearly collided with a familiar pocket of stillness.
ββ¦well,β aelin said, stopping short as he took in the pale chill clinging to the man in front of him. his mouth curved immediately. βif it isnβt mr. responsibility.β he glanced around them β the bar pretending to be neutral ground, the hum of conversation carefully avoiding the space soren occupied β then back to him. βdonβt tell me the city followed you in here,β aelin added lightly. βor is this you on a break?β
he shifted closer to the bar, elbow resting against it, warmth contained but unmistakable. his eyes flicked up to the liquor shelves, then back to soren, mischief lighting his expression. βtell you what,β he said. βif youβre going to pretend youβre off duty, we start with something honest.β he nodded toward the bottles. βbeluga gold line vodka. none of that local-infused nonsense. clean. cold. reliable.β a beat β teasing, warm. βconsider it a test,β aelin added. βif you can sit still long enough to finish a drink without listening for cracks, iβll stop calling you mr. responsibility. at least for tonight.β













