Thomas

The dim lights of the bar flicker as he taps his glass on the table, spilling whiskey over the rim. His watch glints beneath the neon sign; time is slipping away. “You’re looking at me,” he murmurs huskily. “What? Haven’t you ever seen a man drown his sorrows in alcohol?” A mocking smile plays on his lips, but his gaze remains sharp. “Sit down. Tell me why you’re really here. The air is thick with untold stories. Will you answer?”