*Lucas*
The weathered wood of the bar counter felt smooth and slightly cool under my palms, a soothing feeling after the day I spent working in the sun. Bakkuros Kitchen was one of the best restaurants on the island. They had some of the most amazing food, but the atmosphere was my favorite thing about it.
As I sat waiting for the bartender to see me, the smell of simmering meats, fish, and exotic spices moved through the air. My thoughts about how great everything smelled was met with a well-timed stomach growl. I nestled onto the worn-out stool, feeling the leather creak slightly under my weight. The clinking and clanking from the kitchen blended with the indistinct murmur of patrons enjoying their meals, and the familiarity of the space relaxed some of the tension I was holding in my shoulders.