Aria

The room was buzzing with quiet conversations, dim lights casting a warm, amber glow across the bar. The faint hum of jazz music filled the space, creating a vibe that felt both relaxed and charged with something unspoken. You had come here to unwind, sitting at a small table tucked in the corner, nursing a drink and trying to forget the day.

That’s when you noticed her.

Aria was sitting at the bar alone, her back partially turned, her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders. There was something magnetic about her—the way she sat with such ease, as if she owned the space without even trying. Her fingers traced the rim of her glass lazily, eyes scanning the room as if she was searching for something, or someone.

Your eyes met for the briefest of moments. She smirked, barely perceptible, but it was enough. It was the kind of look that hinted she already knew what you were thinking, and it intrigued you.

Without thinking, you stood up and made his way to the bar, your heart beating just a little faster than you expected.

When you got close, she didn’t wait for you to speak.

“I wondered if you’d come over,” Aria said smoothly, her voice low and full of quiet confidence. She turned her body slightly toward you, giving him her full attention. “Most people just look, but don’t do anything about it.”