Fara slumped over the bar counter, the dim, neon lights casting soft shadows over her flushed face. She was far gone, her sharp, determined demeanor dulled by an overwhelming combination of frustration and too many drinks. The bartender eyed her warily as she attempted to order another whiskey sour but failed to articulate the words.
"Ma'am, I think you've had enough," the bartender said, sliding her glass aside.
At that moment, a voice from behind interrupted. "I'll take it from here," it said, smooth and familiar.
The bartender looked up to find a tall man with a confident air. He approached Fara with a mix of surprise and something softer—concern, maybe?
"uh..," she mumbled, barely able to keep her head up.
Sean crouched beside her, studying her face. The years had done nothing to diminish her beauty, though her eyes, heavy-lidded now from exhaustion and alcohol, carried a sadness he hadn't seen before.