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Like all bars, this particular one was filled with loud, obnoxious, irritating occupants.
I sat at the bar, phone in hand. I reread the text over and over, glaring at my screen. I was so angry I was calm, deciding on taking my time to respond.
We're through.
That was all my boyfriend of over three years had texted me. We were going through a rough patch, and after a whole day of fighting over the phone, we decided maybe we should go out to clear our heads together. I guess it was a dumb idea. He'd always been stubborn.
It really was a shame, though. It took me almost an hour to do my makeup, a smoky eye look with bright red lipstick. The makeup complemented the skimpy red dress I somehow managed to fit into, along with the highest black heels I could find. My (Hair length) (Hair colour) hair was let loose, straightened and flowing. It was the most basic thing about me at the moment.
I sighed, putting down my phone. I flagged over the bartender, ordering my fifth drink that night. I knew it wouldn't be my last.
I sipped the glass of vodka I was brought, turning in my chair and examining the other customers. Everyone was mostly dirt drunk, and almost everyone was a man. No one paid attention to me, the slutty girl in the corner, drinking her sorrows away.
I downed the glass angrily, slamming it down noisily and calling the bartender for another.
Now my feelings had finally kicked in.
Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes, and I felt my shoulders bunch. I slowly lowered my forehead to the counter, small sobs shaking my body. I sat there for awhile, the bartender quietly leaving my drink beside me, informing me of its arrival.
Eventually, my back straightened, makeup now completely ruined and my eyes red. I downed the shot immediately, then ordered five more, to which the bartender looked stunned. He still obeyed, scrambling over to get my drinks.
"My, my," An unfamiliar voice enthused from behind me, "Haven't seen a girl yer size drink like that in ages."
I swirled around in my seat, glaring at the newcomer. "What do you want?" I slurred, earning a chuckle. The man had an odd appearance, clad in clothes that clearly resembled a cowboy -- though it was mostly his hat.
The man strolled towards me, swiftly sitting in the seat next to me. His movements were fluid, and if I didn't catch the faint scent of whiskey wafting off him, I'd guess he was sober. "One Scotch," He called to the bartender, who nodded in acknowledgement, "Also, cancel the rounds for this sugar muffin."
I rose a brow, staring incredulously at the man beside me. "Who do you think you are?" I growled, grabbing the drink the bartender brought for the cowboy immediately. The man grabbed my hand, a calm smile on his face. His grip was like iron, unmovable, yet his callused hand didn't hurt my wrist whatsoever.
"I think you've drunk enough, darlin'." The man sighed, "Shouldn't 'a' gotten one myself." He mumbled under his breath, "Anyways, the name's Jesse McCree. What might our name be, sugar cube?" He slowly maneuvered my hand to the counter, and I gave in, letting go of the glass. The man let go of my wrist also, acting as if it was a trade.
I felt my face grow hot, and somehow, I let myself fall into his trap. I forgot all about my now ex-boyfriend, completely enthralled with the new appearance of this man. "I'm (First Name)," I told him, glare turning into a smile.
"God, yer drunk..." Jesse chuckled, then stood from his seat, "Put our drinks on my tab!" He called to the bartender, lifting me from under my arms. "C'mon, darlin', let's get ya home."
I groaned, leaning into his touch. I completely forgot about the fact we only met moments ago, now ecstatic to find a man actually interested in me.
He lugged me out of the crowded bar, eventually picking me up bridal style. This felt like a dream come true. A knight in shining armour, taking me away when I needed someone most.
"Hey, darlin'," Jesse spoke once he noticed I was dozing off, "Sorry to wake ya, but where 'm I headed?"
Just as I opened my mouth to list out directions, I felt bile gather in my throat. I turned from him, puking up the alcohol onto the road. Jesse quickly moved into a nearby alley, resting me down on my knees and holding my hair back. I sat there puking my guts out for what felt like forever, both of us not exchanging any words.
Once I had finally grown quiet, Jesse spoke up. "Got any family back at home?" He pried, and I nodded. "Bet they wouldn't want ta see ya like this, hm?" I nodded sadly, and tears began running down my cheeks for the second time this night. "How about I book ya a hotel, on me?"
I looked up at Jesse with wide eyes, "R-really?" Was all my throat could manage to sputter out at the moment.
"Yup," Jesse picked me up bridal style once more, a cheeky grin on his face, "Boy, do I know the best hotels in Dorado."
Question of the day;
What's your favourite Overwatch headcanon and/or theory?
