Rune’s POV:“A tall glass of orange juice please.”I sat down on the barstool, slamming my purse on the table with a loud thud.“With a straw. Lots of ice. Two mint leaves.”The bartender, a cute guy around my age, turned to me. He had a bottle of whiskey in his hand which he poured some to a customer seated beside me. “Just the juice?” He asked as he set the bottle in front of me, as if waiting for me to change my mind.“Yes.” I said, my voice tight, coiled with anger. My fingers drummed into the surface of the table. I could already taste the juice at the back of my throat. “No alcohol, please.” “A-alright. Coming up.”A deep, riveting chuckle reached my ears.“Orange juice? What do you think this is, a convenience store?” The voice that spoke was deep and rich, the kind that made shivers skittle down my spine.It made my anger spike. As if fuel had been poured into it.I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “No, it’s a fucking bar. I saw the sign outside. Who are you to care what—” I spun
Last Updated : 2025-11-23
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