( @wyattdcvis )
WHEN: Friday, 08:49 PM. WHERE: Moonie’s Bar & Grill. WHO: Wyatt Davis!
It’d been a long one at Hank’s. Stevie had a plethora of cuts, scrapes, and stains on her hands, and had shouted overhead at various points of the day to release the irritation that kept building up thanks to some impatient customers and an unusually high rate of clumsiness on her end that resulted in her consistently, but accidentally, hurting herself. She wasn’t nearly as good with her hands when her focus was off. But it was Friday, goddammit! She was finally at Moonie’s, and she was hankerin’ for some of the Devil’s juice.
Walking in, she was hoping to spot someone in particular---a certain someone who seemed to be coming as frequently as she had. She felt more comfortable taking down a shot sitting next to him than on her lonesome, so actively looking for him the moment she stepped inside had become a habit of hers. Spotting him at the bar, the brunette started toward him and got settled in the seat beside him. “I was hoping I’d find you,” she grinned, giving him a playful nudge. “What’re we drinkin’ tonight? Beer? Or are we jumpin’ straight to the hard shit?”
