Care For Me, Stranger

Myra whips her head to the side, eyes caught by the sign of a wooden sign hung over the bar. She stands, only to plummet again because of her jelly knees. This doesn't stop her from trying again, during which she does manage to muster enough strength to watch.

Myra murmurs inaudibly under her breath and for some reason, there are two men standing outside the bar, ones she doesn't remember seeing when she first passed the area. She shrugs, paying no heed to them as she shoves the door of the bar open, almost tripping over a mat.

The men give a side-eye to each other before following her in quickly.

Myra notices that the bar's almost empty except for a couple at the table at the very edge and a bellboy cleaning. The couple is obviously glancing towards a lone man sitting at the bar table, legs hooked around the legs of the barstool.

This isn't what leads up to Myra approaching him exactly, but she simply slumps on the stool next to his, plastering herself all over the wooden counter. She heaves a breath, lacing the scent of alcohol into the air.

The men who had been standing outside now rush to pull Myra away, only to be stopped by the charcoal-haired man seated next to her. He shakes his head and they back away, retreating to their positions outside the bar.

"I've drunk too much," Myra gurgles, her words slurred into a language that can't be understood. The man seated beside her chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully as heat rises beneath his skin.

"I'm Myra, may I have the pleasure of having the name of this fine stranger tonight?" she says while lifting her head. She holds out a hand to him invitingly, which he takes gently and shyly, taken aback by her boldness.

"It's Leo but I'd be surprised if you didn't know me by now," he replies bashfully, taking a sip out of his sparkling water. Myra has been looking at it for a while now since she lay her head on the counter, watching as the fibres of the lime float around the water surface, drifting with no care.

Myra squints her eyes at him, with no intent or real thought at all. "You come to a bar but you're not drinking alcohol?"

Leo flushes. "I'm not allowed to consume alcohol outside family dinners. Are you fond of its taste? You seem to enjoy it very much," he says this with no ill intent, as most people would hold when looking at a shabby drunkard before their eyes.

He lets out a light-hearted chuckle as he leans a palm against his hand, the other wrapped around his glass.

Myra heaves a breathless sigh. "It's my first time drinking. Actually, it's the first time I remember but I must've drunk a lot, considering I'm of noble birth. Am I making any sense? Ugh… I'm…" the noble girl clutches onto her achy head, dipping for a moment to regain her composure.

Leo tilts his head in confusion, slowly inching a hand towards her before refraining from touching her, realising it's not safe to do so without allegations. He peers to the side, where the couple still conspicuously stares at him.

Mumbling something under his breath worriedly, he turns his head away quickly. The bartender who had been observing for a while takes it upon himself to escort the couple out and once again, it's only the two of them in the bar (with the staff's presence too, but it has become negligible to either of them).

"Oh dear, you've drunk a lot. Is there a way for you to get home this way? Will someone be picking you up?" Leo coos gently, trying to hide the stutter in his voice, growing increasingly nervous due to the hammering in his chest.

Myra closes the distance between them as she quickly and unexpectedly brings her face close, to the point where distance is almost non-existent and the air that exists between them is shared.

The closeness between them is dangerous, flared with some kind of electricity that doesn't dare flicker into a flame. Leo pulls back, rather freezes in place and begs himself to as his sheepishness washes over him.

"Why? Do you care about me, Mr. Stranger?" Myra smirks, a teasing lilt in her tone.

Something flickers briefly over her eyes, something Leo sees very clearly because of the closeness between them. "I'd have to give it to you… If I wasn't so tipsy right now, I might've kissed you because… you're pretty," is what she has to say to the man who she couldn't know less about, before laying her head against the counter again.

Leo flushes bright red at the compliment, clutching his face with a hand as he tries to process his thoughts. He blinks in confusion, trying his hardest to control his senses before he's driven insane.

Having always been protected from such instances in the first place, he has never once interacted with women beyond his parents' snobby tastes.

Minutes pass and Leo comes to the realisation that it's too late for a lady to be out. Knowing he couldn't possibly show up in his home with an unknown woman in his arms, especially one he'd met at a bar late at night, he simply thinks of getting a coachman to send her home.

Raising a hand in 'thanks' to the bartender, he stands, wrapping Myra's arm around his shoulder. As he tries to get her up, the cloak falls off her head, revealing luscious pink hair.

Worried she'd get cold, he quickly covers her up again, holding back his terrible urge to stroke her head—in no way weird of course, but because it'd be his last memory of her.

Leo slowly leads the drunken woman outside the bar with slow footsteps, ensuring she doesn't lose her step along the way. His men outside the door look at him confusedly, wondering if it's appropriate to ask questions.

"My liege, you don't often let women approach you… Do you know her by any chance?" one asks carefully when the other makes a gesture of zipping his lips together, insisting he wouldn't ask.

"No, I don't. The bar is empty around this time, after all, so I thought it wouldn't hurt to have some company. I doubt anyone would start rumours so this is a matter you don't need to inform my parents of either," Leo instructs before grappling Myra's waist with his free hand, seeing as she almost slips out of his grip and falls on the ground.

More so than Myra would panic at being held by a man like Leo, he finds his heart tumbling faster than the enigmatic woman in his grip. The men exchange confused glances before ultimately deciding remaining silent would be the best approach.

"Is anyone picking you up?" Leo whispers.

Myra shakes her head to wake herself up from her drunken stupor, only to do so very slightly, enough to make sense of Leo's words. She nods, trying to fix her posture so she doesn't rely all of her weight on her wobbly knees.

"He… He… Someone's picking me up… Hup!" Myra hiccups in between her words, flushing even redder than before as if she's aware of her embarrassing actions. "From the statue…" is all she manages to say before going silent again.

Leo inhales his breath deeply to brace himself for the several minutes that'll involve him panicking internally and silently and slowly leads her to the statue. His men tail him quietly, keeping watch of the passers-by for anyone who stares too long.