even if i lost the fight
Aisha's attention was drawn away from a rather pretty woman across the bar by a puff of smoke, and a welcome addition to her glass. Whiskey, it seemed they had that in common, she loved the fire it burned in her throat. Long dark lashes swept slowly over him as she followed the hand that poured her drink up the arm, the sleeve of stars, and to the face, the cigarette, the steely blue eyes.
She smiled up at him and took the glass of honeyed spirit from the counter, and downed it quickly. That was number three, and with a playful provocation in her gaze she put the glass back down and pushed it back towards him. "Nice tattoos," she said, waiting for her refill with a cheeky edge to her posture.
She smiled up at him and took the glass of honeyed spirit from the counter, and downed it quickly. That was number three, and with a playful provocation in her gaze she put the glass back down and pushed it back towards him. "Nice tattoos," she said, waiting for her refill with a cheeky edge to her posture.
you should've seen the other guy
AISHA
