||Chapter One||

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A sigh escaped from her lips as her hands skilfully polished a glass. A soft jazz melody drifted over, adding a bit of flavour to the tranquil evening.

No customers were in yet, but she knew the minute it hit eight? It'd be bustling and there would be people everywhere, loud chatter making it impossible to hear any orders.

And as the clock hit eight, a stampede of people were pushing their way in to get a drink made by the skilful hands of (Y/n). She completed orders left and right, she was so used to it by now that not even the fumes of the strongest alcohols phased her. As she worked, she constantly peered over the heads of her customers, desperately wanting to see him.


Your POV

It was about ten pm when he walked through the door, he sat down at a stool right in front of you and gave you a smile.
"(Y/n). How are you?" He ran a hand through his hair and you took note of his sleeves that were pushed up to reveal his forearms and his tie that hung loosely around his neck. You shook your thoughts away.

"I'm better than you are it seems. Bad day at work?" You replied coolly. He winced.
"Yeah. It's been getting kinda stressful." He leaned in closer to watch you make him his drink.
"Cola and whiskey?" He questioned, sniffing the glass you handed to him. You hummed. As he took a sip, he practically melted.
"God I forgot how good you were at your job." He chuckled causing you to blush lightly and turn to another customer.

It was like this most nights, the young man coming about three times a week to sit down have a drink and talk to you. Your friendship going back to high school where you two had met at some party where you were working as a mixer for cash and maybe a little bit of weed on the side.

We all have vices.

As the night wore on, business died down, leaving you to converse with Colt.
"How's my favourite boy?" You asked, pouring yourself a mimosa. Taking a dip from your orange juice drink, you sighed.
"I'm alright." Colt slurred, his fingers playing with a piece of ice. You smacked him upside the head gently.

"I meant Falco you oaf. I couldn't care less about you." You joked. Colt gasped and placed a hand over his heart.
"You wound me, my love."

His voice was joking but his face was expressionless. The combination made you laugh.
"I'm sorry my dear, but priorities." You held your drink up and swirled it before taking a sip.

"He's good. Misses you I think. You haven't been around in a while." He looked at you, his bright eyes searching yours for the answers to an unasked question.
It was true, you and the Grice family had always been close, but over the past few years, as you realised your feelings for the young man, you attempted to distance yourself from them. You failed as he constantly came by your bar.

"Hmm... I'll have to get around to visiting him sometime soon." You murmured. Colt nodded.
"We'd like that. Maybe have a movie night again." He suggested nonchalantly. "How are your brothers?" He asked and you winced.

"I don't know. You see Zeke more than I do at work don't you? And lord knows what Eren's up to these days." You shook your head before downing the last of your drink.

"What's up (Y/n)? You never drink mimosas." Colt was laying face down, arms spread out like a bird.

"Felt like something soft." You replied shortly. You turned around and poured out some blue Gatorade for the man, just like you did every other night he came. He held his glass up, to which you met with your own, the blue liquid splashing around as the glasses hit each other in a sloppy cheers.

About two hours later you were tucking him into bed, still fully dressed. With shoes on too as you didn't want to deal with that.

One Drink Away || Colt GriceWhere stories live. Discover now