Chapter Text
The sound of laughter and clinking glasses filled the warm dimly lit bar as Raelle pushed open the heavy door, the cool night air dissipating as she stepped inside. The faint scent of beer and whiskey mingled with the hum of casual conversation. Abigail walked in close behind her, flanked by Tally, whose cheerful voice was already discussing what drink she’d order.
Raelle barely made it two steps in before her breath hitched. She froze, her blue eyes locking onto a figure behind the bar. A woman with shoulder-length brown hair moved with effortless grace as she poured a drink, her fingers nimble, her piercing blue eyes sparking under the soft glow of the bar lights. Raelle’s heart stuttered, and it wasn’t from the chill she’d left behind at the door.
Abigail and Tally, caught off guard by Raelle’s sudden stop, slammed into her back.
“Raelle, what the hell?!” Tally exclaimed, rubbing her shoulder where she’d collided with Abigail. She followed Raelle’s unblinking gaze, her brow furrowing before a slow grin crept onto her face.
“Ohhh,” Tally murmured, leaning closer to Abigail and nudging her with an elbow. “She’s got that look. You see it?”
Abigail adjusted the strap of her designer bag and arched a perfectly manicured brow. “What look? She always looks vaguely annoyed.”
“No,” Tally hissed, pointing not-so-subtly toward the bar. “That look.”
Raelle didn’t hear them. She was too busy staring at the brunette, who was now chatting with a patron, her laugh low and warm. The way she leaned forward, the light catching the delicate curve of her jawline—it was mesmerizing.
“Raelle,” Abigail said, snapping her fingers in front of the blonde’s face. “Earth to Collar. Are you going to move, or should we just stand here like idiots all night?”
Raelle shook herself, blinking rapidly as if waking from a dream. “Uh… yeah. Sorry,” she muttered, stepping aside, but her gaze drifted back to the bar like a magnet.
Tally grinned knowingly and looped an arm through Raelle’s. “Come on, lover girl. Let’s get a table. Maybe your dream girl will take our drink order.”
Raelle glared at her, cheeks flushing. “Shut up, Tally.”
But as they moved deeper into the bar, Raelle couldn’t help sneaking another glance at the brunette. Raelle’s stomach did a flip.
“Yup,” Tally said under her breath, nudging Abigail again. “She’s a goner.”
Malone’s bar was alive with its usual energy—a symphony of overlapping conversations, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. Scylla moved behind the polished wooden bar with the ease of someone who had mastered her domain. Her nimble fingers poured shots and mixed cocktails as she bantered with a group of regulars at the counter.
“Another round, Scylla! You’re too good to us,” one of the patrons called out, grinning as he slid his empty glass forward.
“Flattery gets you nowhere, Rob,” Scylla teased, a playful smirk tugging at her lips as she grabbed a bottle. “But your tab sure is getting somewhere.”
Scylla’s hands worked on autopilot as she poured Rob’s whiskey, the golden liquid splashing neatly into the glass. Her usual rhythm of work—quick, efficient, and practiced—was momentarily interrupted when the bar door creaked open, letting in a gust of cool city air.
She glanced up instinctively, her sharp blue eyes drawn to the movement.
A blonde girl stepped through the doorway, flanked by two others. The first thing Scylla noticed was the blonde’s hair—short, loose on one side but with three neat braids on the other, a striking combination that somehow looked effortlessly natural. Then there were her eyes—piercing and bright, scanning the room as if trying to take everything in at once. There was something about her, something that made Scylla’s breath catch for the briefest moment.
Rob’s voice jolted her back.
“Earth to Scylla,” he said, waving his hand in front of her. “You gonna finish pouring that drink, or are you charging me for half a glass?”
Scylla blinked and returned to her task, filling the rest of his glass with a practiced flick of her wrist. “You’re lucky I don’t charge for your bad jokes,” she shot back, earning a laugh from the man.
But her focus wasn’t entirely back on the job. As she slid the drink toward Rob, her eyes darted back to the door.
The blonde and her friends had moved further into the bar now, their chatter blending into the hum of the crowd. Scylla tracked them as discreetly as she could, noting the direction they were heading. They found a table near the far side of the room, and the blonde settled into her seat, her smile fleeting but genuine as she responded to something one of her friends said.
Scylla shook her head, trying to pull herself out of whatever spell this stranger had cast over her. “Focus,” she muttered under her breath, reaching for the next bottle on the counter.
But even as she poured drinks and bantered with the regulars, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing up now and then, searching for that flash of blonde hair in the crowd.
It wasn’t like her to get distracted at work—least of all by someone she hadn’t even spoken to. But there was something about the girl that tugged at her in a way she couldn’t explain.
The trio managed to snag a small table near the edge of the bustling room, its surface slightly sticky from spilled drinks but good enough. Tally and Abigail quickly resumed their ongoing debate about the merits of ordering cocktails versus something straightforward like beer.
Raelle, however, was only half-listening. Her attention kept drifting back toward the bar where the blue-eyed bartender moved with effortless ease. Every laugh, every subtle tilt of her head, every time she reached for a bottle—it was like a magnetic pull Raelle couldn’t shake.
“So, beer or cocktails?” Tally asked, waving a hand in front of Raelle’s face.
“Huh? Yeah, sure,” Raelle replied distractedly, earning a snort from Abigail.
“Alright, beers it is,” Abigail declared with a smirk.
“I’ll go!” Raelle blurted, practically leaping out of her chair. “I’ll go to the bar. I’ll, uh, get the drinks.”
Tally and Abigail exchanged a knowing look, their eyebrows raising in unison.
“Oh, I bet you will,” Tally teased, her grin mischievous.
Raelle couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. She wasn’t going to let a chance like this slip by.
“Shut up,” she said, her tone laced with humor as she grabbed a small wad of cash from her pocket.
Abigail leaned back in her chair, shaking her head in mock disbelief. “You’re already a goner, aren’t you?”
Raelle shrugged, unapologetic. “Guess we’ll see.”
With that, she turned on her heel and strode toward the bar, her steps purposeful and steady, though the fluttering in her chest betrayed her outward cool. She wasn’t nervous—no, that wasn’t it. She just… needed to play this right.
At the table, Tally shook her head, laughing softly. “She’s hopeless.”
“Hopeless and already planning her wedding,” Abigail quipped.
Meanwhile, Raelle reached the bar, her eyes scanning for the brunette. There she was, sliding a drink across the counter to a customer, her lips quirking in a small, playful smile as she nodded at something the patron said. Raelle felt her own grin widening.
Scylla spotted her immediately—the cute blonde girl from earlier, now strolling up to the bar. The way she moved, with easy confidence and a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, sent an inexplicable rush of anticipation through Scylla.
She was mid-pour for a customer who seemed determined to drag out his transaction with unnecessary small talk.
“So anyway,” the man was saying, his voice a little too loud, “you know what they say about whiskey and wisdom, right?”
Scylla didn’t. Nor did she care.
She plastered on a polite smile, the one she reserved for moments like this, and nodded absently, willing him to finish his spiel. “Uh-huh, wise as hell, I’m sure. Here you go,” she said, sliding the glass toward him.
Her attention kept flicking toward the blonde, who was now leaning casually against the counter, waiting her turn. Scylla could feel her pulse quicken as she tried to speed up the interaction.
The customer, of course, wasn’t getting the hint. “Yeah, yeah, exactly!” he said, holding the glass up like he was about to launch into a toast.
“Cheers, to that!" Scylla cut in briskly, flashing another tight-lipped smile.
Behind her, one of her coworkers, a tall lanky guy named Dave, started heading toward the blonde, towel slung over his shoulder. Scylla caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and immediately spun around.
“Don’t,” she said firmly, her voice low but commanding.
Dave froze mid-step, his eyes widening slightly at the intensity of her tone. She didn’t have to say anything else—her expression said it all. “Ah, ha! Gotcha,” he said, backing away with a knowing grin and veering toward a different customer.
Satisfied, Scylla turned back to the man in front of her, who had thankfully decided to move along.
Finally.
She straightened, smoothing her apron and letting out a breath as she approached the blonde. For a moment, she just stood there, taking her in—those blue eyes even more striking up close, her expression a mix of casual confidence and something softer, almost curious.
Scylla leaned slightly against the bar, her lips quirking into a subtle, playful smile. “Hey,” she said, her voice calm despite the nerves buzzing beneath her skin. “What can I get you?”
Raelle had been standing at the bar, every nerve on edge as she silently willed the universe to keep every other bartender away from her. She was focused on one goal: talking to the ridiculously cute brunette who had finally, finally turned her way.
And now, here she was—blue eyes shining, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she leaned slightly against the bar.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked, her voice smooth and warm, the kind of voice that sent a pleasant chill down Raelle’s spine.
Raelle blinked. What can I get you? It seemed like such a simple question, yet her mind blanked entirely. She hadn’t listened to a single thing Abigail and Tally said about their drink preferences.
“Uh…” Raelle began, scratching the back of her neck with a sheepish grin. “Honestly? I have no idea. I didn’t listen to a word my friends said about what they wanted. So, uh…” She waved a hand vaguely. “I guess I need 3 drinks, Surprise me?”
The bartender—her nametag read "Scylla," Raelle noted with a quiet thrill—tilted her head, her smile quirking into something more amused. “You want me to just make it up as I go along?”
“Sounds perfect,” Raelle said, leaning slightly against the counter with a crooked grin. “I’m sure whatever you come up with will be great.”
Scylla laughed, a low, genuine sound that immediately sat apart from the usual, polite chuckles Raelle had heard from bartenders in the past. “That’s a lot of pressure, you know.”
“I’m confident you can handle it,” Raelle replied, her tone equal parts teasing and sincere.
Scylla shook her head slightly, her smile widening as she reached for a set of pint glasses. “Alright. But if your friends hate what I make them, it's all on you.”
Raelle laughed, a light, free sound she hadn’t realized she’d been holding back. “Fair enough. I’ll take the heat.”
As Scylla worked, their eyes met once, twice, three times—each glance lingering just a moment longer than the last. Every time it happened, Raelle felt a spark of something she couldn’t quite explain, something electric that made her heart skip a beat.
And from the way Scyllas gaze softened, how her smile seemed a little more real than the one she’d given the customer before, Raelle wondered if maybe—just maybe—She felt it too.
By the time Scylla placed three drinks in front of her, Raelle’s grin had widened, her confidence growing with each exchange.
“There you go,” Scylla said, sliding the glasses forward. “Your mystery drinks.”
Raelle nodded, her fingers brushing against Scylla’s briefly as she picked up the first glass. “Oh, I’m sure they’ll be perfect. Thanks, Scylla.”
Her name slipped off Raelle’s tongue naturally, and it earned her another smile, this one small but undeniably genuine.
“Enjoy,” Scylla replied softly, her gaze following the blonde girl as she turned and walked back toward another customer.
Scylla’s chest tightened briefly, and she couldn’t help glancing back one more time.
Raelle grabbed the drinks from the bar, as she turned to head back to her table. She caught a final glance of Scylla, now moving down the bar to serve another customer. Their eyes met briefly as Scylla cast a glance over her shoulder, a small, teasing smile playing on her lips before she turned back to her work.
Raelle felt like she was floating. Cloud nine didn’t even begin to cover it.
Too caught up in the moment, she barely noticed the man in front of her until the last second, nearly plowing straight into him. “Whoa, sorry!” she blurted, expertly pivoting to avoid a collision.
The man waved her off, but Raelle barely registered it. Her gaze flicked back to the bar—back to Scylla—where she caught the brunette’s eyes briefly lifting from her work to follow Raelle’s retreat.
Her heart did a little flip, and a grin stretched across her face as she finally reached the table.
Abigail and Tally looked up from their conversation, immediately clocking Raelle’s ridiculously cheerful expression.
“Well, someone looks happy,” Tally remarked, her tone laced with amusement.
Raelle set the drinks down on the table and plopped into her seat, still beaming. Abigail and Tally glanced at the glasses, then at each other, their eyebrows raising in confusion.
“Raelle,” Abigail began, gesturing to the drinks, “we ordered beer. What on earth did you bring us?”
Raelle shrugged, unfazed. “I don’t know,” she said, her grin growing even wider. “I didn’t listen to what you wanted, and the cute barmaid—who is called Scylla, by the way—made us these.”
Abigail and Tally exchanged a look, their lips twitching with the effort of suppressing laughter.
“Of course her name’s Scylla,” Tally said, picking up one of the glasses to inspect it. “And of course, you didn’t listen to us.”
Ignoring their teasing, Raelle picked up her own glass and took a sip. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Mmm,” she said, nodding appreciatively. “Delicious.”
Abigail raised an eyebrow, still eying Raelle with thinly veiled amusement. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”
Raelle didn’t bother denying it, her gaze drifting back toward the bar again. “Maybe,” she replied, her tone light and unapologetic.
Tally took a tentative sip of her drink and immediately perked up. “Okay, fine. She knows her stuff,” she admitted grudgingly.
“I’m still mad this isn’t beer,” Abigail grumbled, though she didn’t hesitate to take a sip herself.
Raelle leaned back in her chair, utterly pleased with herself. She wasn’t entirely sure what the drinks were, but they were good, And as much as Abigail and Tally’s teasing might have annoyed her on a normal day, right now, she didn’t care.
The three of them lounged at the table, their glasses steadily emptying as the tension of their busy days gave way to laughter and casual conversation. They hadn’t come out with a big plan—just to unwind, catch up, and enjoy a few drinks.
Raelle, however, had been only half-listening to Abigail and Tally’s chatter. Her mind kept wandering back to the bar, to Scylla, who had made their drinks and, more importantly, had laughed at her terrible attempt to place an order.
When their glasses were finally empty, Raelle’s hand shot out to grab them, eager for an excuse to head back to the bar. “Alright, I’ll go get the next round,” she said, already standing.
Tally, ever the mischief-maker, smirked and leaned forward. “No, no, Raelle, you stay here. I’ll go this time—”
“Don’t make me fight you, Tally,” Raelle interrupted, her tone light but firm. “You know I’ll win.”
Tally threw her hands up in mock surrender, her grin widening. “I’m only kidding! Please, go get us more of these.” She wiggled her empty glass for emphasis. “And while you’re at it, chat up your future wife some more.”
Raelle’s smirk deepened as she shook her head at Tally’s antics. “Future wife, huh? You’re getting a little ahead of yourself.”
Abigail, burst into laughter. “Tally’s not wrong, though,” she teased, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “You’re already smitten. Might as well make it official.”
Raelle rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the faint blush creeping up her neck. “You two are the worst,” she said, though her grin made it clear she didn’t mean it.
As she turned and headed back to the bar, Abigail and Tally exchanged a look, shaking their heads with amusement.
“She’s got it bad,” Tally said, laughing softly.
“Oh, she’s done for,” Abigail agreed, leaning back in her chair.
Meanwhile, Raelle strode confidently toward the bar, already preparing herself for another round of banter with Scylla. Her nerves buzzed with anticipation.
Scylla spotted the blonde girl weaving her way back through the crowded bar, carrying three empty glasses in her hands. A faint smile tugged at Scylla’s lips as she instinctively moved to intercept her, sliding smoothly down the bar and ignoring the calls of a few other customers. Someone else could deal with them.
Raelle reached the counter and set the glasses down with a light clink, her attention momentarily on the bar before Scylla leaned in just slightly, her elbows resting on the polished wood.
“You know,” Scylla said, her voice low and laced with an inviting playfulness, “you don’t have to clear your own glasses. That’s our job.” She gestured loosely toward herself and the other bartenders with a small shrug, her lips quirking into an amused smile.
Raelle’s eyes widened briefly at the unexpected flirtation, the smooth delivery catching her slightly off-guard. But only for a moment. She quickly found her footing, a slow smile spreading across her face as she leaned forward just enough to close the space between them.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Raelle shot back, her voice light but edged with her own brand of playful confidence. “Figured I’d make it easy on you. Thought you might need the help.”
Scylla raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Help?” she repeated, tilting her head as though considering the idea. “I think you underestimate me. I’ve got this job down to an art.”
“An art, huh?” Raelle teased, her piercing blue eyes locking onto Scylla’s. “What kind of artist ignores their other customers to come running when I walk up?”
Scylla laughed at that, the sound low and rich, and Raelle felt a small jolt of satisfaction at having drawn it out.
“Touché,” Scylla admitted, her gaze flicking over Raelle briefly before she reached for the glasses Raelle had brought. “So, how’d I do? Did your friends enjoy their mystery drinks?”
Raelle leaned back slightly, a smug grin on her face. “Oh, they loved them. Didn’t even care they weren’t what they ordered.” She paused for effect, letting her grin grow.
“So, same again then?” Scylla asked, tilting her head with a playful smile as she grabbed the empty glasses Raelle had brought back.
Raelle nodded, though she hesitated for a second longer than necessary. As much as she wanted to keep up this back-and-forth banter with Scylla—every excuse to talk to her was tempting—there was something deeper gnawing at her.
In the one-and-a-half times they’d spoken, Raelle was absolutely certain of one thing: she didn’t want to walk out of this bar without at least trying. She wasn’t just being a hopeless romantic; she could feel it—there was something between them, something rare and electric.
Her decision was made.
As Scylla turned to make the drinks, Raelle felt her stomach swirl, a mix of nerves and determination taking over. She could do this. She wasn’t going to overthink it—she was just going to be honest.
When Scylla turned back with the freshly made drinks and slid them onto the counter, Raelle took a deep breath. She tilted her head up, aiming for her usual confidence, though she couldn’t quite stop the slight edge of apprehension in her voice.
“Hey, so… my name is Raelle,” she began, her words coming out a little faster than she’d planned. “I don’t think I got that far the first time.”
Scylla’s lips curved into a small smile, and she leaned in slightly, intrigued.
“I’m a car mechanic,” Raelle continued, her fingers brushing the condensation on one of the glasses. “And, uh, definitely not a weird stalker or murderer or anything.” She paused, letting out a nervous laugh before locking eyes with Scylla.
“And I think you might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my whole life,” she said, her voice steady despite the way her heart was hammering. “And I can’t leave this bar again without asking what time you finish tonight. If maybe you’d like to do something—with me—when you’re done. I don’t care if it’s at three a.m. I’ll wait.”
The words spilled out in a rush, and as soon as they were out, Raelle held her breath, bracing for Scylla’s response.
Scylla stood there for a beat, her blue eyes wide as she looked at the cute blonde girl in front of her—the one who had just taken her shot with an honesty and boldness that felt almost disarming.
For a moment, Scylla didn’t know what to say, but not because she wasn’t interested. Quite the opposite. She had been standing here since the girl walked in, trying to figure out how to ensure she learned Raelle’s name and, at the very least, found a way to give her phone number to this girl who had her heart racing in ways she couldn’t explain.
And now Raelle had beaten her to it.
“Well,” Scylla finally said, her voice warm as a slow smile spread across her face. “First of all, I’m glad to know you’re not a stalker or a murderer. That is a relief.”
Raelle let out a small laugh, some of the tension easing from her shoulders.
“And second,” Scylla added, leaning her hands on the counter as she met Raelle’s gaze head-on, “I finish at midnight. And yes, I’d love to do something with you.”
Raelle blinked, caught off guard by how easily the response came. “Yeah?” she asked, her grin breaking through the surprise.
Scylla nodded, her eyes softening. “Yeah."
As Scylla slid a napkin toward her, she pulled out a pen from her apron and jotted down her number, she felt her chest tighten in a way she hadn’t expected. “Here,” she said, handing it over. “Just in case you need to text me in the mean time.”
Raelle took the napkin, grinning like she’d just won the lottery. “I’ll see you at midnight.”
“You’d better,” Scylla replied, her gaze lingering as Raelle turned and headed back to her table, her smile not fading for a second.
Raelle practically skipped back to her table, the napkin with Scylla’s number clutched triumphantly in her hand. As she reached her friends, she couldn’t resist waving it dramatically in the air, her grin so wide it almost hurt.
Tally’s eyes immediately narrowed in mock suspicion. “Hold up,” she said, pointing at Raelle. “Where are our drinks?”
Raelle froze mid-celebration, her face falling into an expression of comical horror. “Shit!” she exclaimed, spinning on her heel so fast she nearly tripped over herself.
Abigail burst out laughing as Raelle sprinted back toward the bar. “She’s hopeless,” Abigail said, shaking her head with a smirk.
“I love this,” Tally added, grinning.
Meanwhile, Scylla was still standing behind the bar, directly in front of the three untouched drinks Raelle had abandoned. She had watched the entire thing unfold, the smile tugging at her lips growing wider as Raelle hurried back.
Raelle skidded to a halt in front of the bar, breathing just a little harder than she’d like to admit. Scylla raised an eyebrow, her expression brimming with amusement.
“Forget something, did you?” Scylla asked, gesturing to the drinks.
Raelle laughed, running a hand through her hair as she leaned against the counter. “Well, you know,” she said, her tone light and teasing, “I got a little distracted by this real cute barmaid. You can’t blame a girl for forgetting why she even came to the bar in the first place."
Scylla chuckled softly, shaking her head. “I guess I’ll let it slide this time,” she replied, her voice low and warm.
Raelle reached for the drinks, as she glanced back up at Scylla. “Thanks. For these."
“Anytime,” Scylla said, her gaze lingering on Raelle for just a moment longer than necessary.
Raelle’s heart gave a little flutter, but she quickly grabbed the drinks and scampered back to her table before she could embarrass herself further.
Tally and Abigail were waiting for her, both of them wearing identical grins of mischief.
“Drinks secured?” Tally asked innocently, though her tone made it clear she was enjoying every second of this.
“Drinks secured,” Raelle confirmed as she set them down, her cheeks still a little flushed.
“And?” Abigail prompted, raising an eyebrow.
Raelle flopped into her chair, her grin returning in full force. “And,” she said, holding up the napkin once again, “I have a date.”
The table erupted into cheers and laughter as Raelle leaned back, still feeling like she was floating.
Midnight couldn’t come fast enough.