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strminyoung:
Entertaining herself by watching the woman while she mixed her drink, Min’s gaze settled on her hands as they worked at pouring, admiring how precise she was until the cocktail was complete. Tracing her fingertips against the cool side of the glass once it slid across the counter in her direction, her eyes remained downcast for the time being as her smile only broadened a bit when their playful exchange carried on. There was a palpable tension between the two that told her that she was most certainly being flirted with, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that it wouldn’t take very many cosmopolitans to have her leaving the pub with this attractive stranger by the night’s end. Somehow, knowing the other would have an upper hand before anything even began was a little alarming, and yet thrilling at the same time.
“On you,” she echoed after a pause, and finally her gaze lifted again, meeting the bartender’s stare as her hand closed around the glass and she finally rose it until the rim rested against her lower lip, the liquid cold and sweet in her mouth upon first sip before the undeniable burn of alcohol followed in her throat once she swallowed. “You mix a pretty nice cosmo, so I guess I owe you my name. I mean, it’s a good drink, and it’s on you and all. Least I could do is introduce myself.” Giggling lightly, the bubbly sound clearly natural as it was far too soon to be influenced by alcohol, she set her glass down and leaned a bit closer toward the other.
Instead of giving up her own name just yet, she reached out to brush the girl’s name tag, grazing it with her fingertip in such a casual manner that one would assume she had no clue how close her hand lingered to Cheri’s chest. “I get it. Cheri, Red, cherry. That’s cute.” Adjusting herself to cross one leg fluidly over the other, bouncing her foot as she quickly smoothed down the skirt of her short dress to assure the material didn’t ride up too high with the shift in position, she fixed her with a coy smile and hummed out softly, “You can call me Min.”
By now, the change from her usual easygoing, silly demeanor to her more flirtatious mode was taken notice of by her friends, who cast her sidelong glances from their spot beside her before, inevitably, they inched further down the bar with their drinks to put a sizable distance between them. There was no sense interrupting Min when she was in the process of picking someone up, though in an unexpected turn of the tables, it seemed she was the one getting picked up this time around. “Tell me, Cheri,” she went on after a moment, swirling her glass with a subtle wrist movement before she took another sip from the drink. “Do you buy girls drinks often, or am I a special little butterfly?”
“So I’ve been told,” she teased through a quiet drawl of her lips, her deep brown orbs studying the way the enticing girl’s lips encased around the rim of the martini glass. Mesmerized, the tip of Cheri’s tongue darted lightly to wet over the matte lip color, the soft glisten drying shortly after - though the desire to claim what her eyes so greedily drank in still ached upon the palette of her tongue. The only capable force of ripping her straight back into reality was the prospect of having Min’s fingers elegantly tracing over the name tag, so innocently that Cheri could almost tell the female knew what a tease she had been, the moment the bartender had stepped up her game.
“Mh, Min. That’s cute,” she reiterated, the thrill of finally putting name to face boosting the confidence she had been ebbed of the first time she had laid eyes upon the other. The change in events seemed to be finally taken notice by her small group as they shuffled down further from the scene unfolding, Cheri secretly grateful once more for her overflowing luck. “Do you enjoy coming around here every so often? You’re quite the distraction.”
And that was the truth, no white lie mingled in to earn any sort of tip -- unless the tip consisted of Min spread open like a feast for Cheri to devour after hours. The thought had her drifting back into the daydream she had only minutes ago been unceremoniously ripped from by a drunken man, but now with Min visualized right in front of her, it was much easier to get lost in a heavily detailed vision of milky skin and sweet giggles. Despite the tempting offer of submerging herself entirely in the picturesque scene, Cheri focused her attention back on the real version of her desires when those pretty lips parted in the form of a question.
“No,” answering honestly and perhaps a tad bit brutally, Cheri scoffed, the pitched laugh forced from her chest at the mere idea of buying anyone a drink. She never covered a tab nor a single drink, the bar would pay for that, as Cheri’s money would always be Cheri’s money. “You can consider yourself a very special butterfly, doll. I had been meaning to get around to buying a drink for you, though it seems you’ve always sent your friends up for drinks. But, my chance came tonight, no?” She smirked in a coy manner as her head tilted towards the direction of the cosmo she had been enjoying, tapping a polished-pink nail at the base of the cocktail glass.
▏pour it up. «cheri | min»
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strminyoung:
It was on evenings like these that it felt as though time had been rewound and she was somewhere miles away, years away; not Minyoung, the florist and student who had been living in Strobe for five years now. Instead, it took her back to being a teenager, still living in Seattle, still known as Jasmine to her English-speaking friends. Out on the town, dressed as provocatively as was socially acceptable, having one too many drinks and never knowing for sure if they were finding trouble or if the trouble was finding them. Granted, Seattle had more options as to where to go, and they had to be deceptive with the use of fake I.D.s in order to acquire alcohol, but the point still stood that when Min slid on a tight dress and stepped into a dimly-lit pub, the memories of her more reckless years came flooding back like a tidal wave.
It wasn’t often she had a reason to dress to the nines in Strobe, a lazy town where walking to the store for ice cream in her pajamas didn’t earn a second glance. Sometimes, though, even just to go for a couple drinks with friends, taking just that extra bit of care in applying her make-up and selecting an outfit put a certain sort of spring in her step that gave her the confidence to chance a random encounter with an attractive stranger. Sometimes her friends would raise their brows at this behavior, but Min wasn’t one to be shamed for her sexuality– not anymore.
Petite stature elevated by the tall heels, she tapped one foot rhythmically against the floor to create a soft clacking sound as stiletto met tile, elbows rested on the bar top and red-lacquered nails matching the beat of her foot with idle drumming against the smooth surface, the unconscious movements mostly lost on their maker as she focused instead on the chatter of her friends while they made conversation and deliberating over ordering their drink orders. Only when it came to be her turn did she request a simple cosmopolitan, starting off light as her gaze slid over the physique of the attractive bartender and her cherry red lips curved up into a smile of amusement at the flirtatious opening line she was met with. With as much grace as she could muster, she hoisted herself up to slide onto a bar stool, the tapping of her heel finally ceasing as her feet now dangled off down, still regarding the girl with a bit of curiosity.
“Well,” she drew the word out as if thinking how to answer, though her expression gave away that she knew exactly what she was doing. “I suppose I haven’t caught the eye of anyone who wanted to buy my drink yet.” Again, she gave the woman an obvious once-over, recognizing her as the bartender she often saw in the pub but had never previously spoken to past ordering her drinks. “… Unless, of course, you’re offering right now.”
The noise of the female’s shoe had ceased and captured her attention, understanding that she had taken a seat up at the counter, versus alongside her friends whom had taken little notice to their current conversation. “That’s a shame,” she hummed lowly and pushed herself from the counter to begin on the cosmopolitan, keeping the glass in front of the girl as to not have to move nearly as far away as if she had stayed by the prep counter. Several appropriate measurements and ingredients later, the glass was filled with expertise and gently pushed forward along the dark mahogany wood, accompanied with a smile on Cheri’s lips. “I was offering, although I wouldn’t call it much of an offer-- as that means you have the choice to deny said offer.”
A quiet laugh revels in the pit of her throat before doing a once over on the other customers whom have filled glasses and drunken grins, silently thanking whichever higher being had let fate drift into her pub. “That one isn’t on the house, though. It’s on me,” she settled herself with arms crossed on the counter, attention still hooked by the captivating female. “If you’ll at least tell me your name, I’ve seen you here several times before.”
The sentence is cut short, rightfully so, as Cheri stumbled over trying not to embarrass herself with the admittance that yes, she had taken notice to each time the girl had acquainted herself with the only flourishing pub in this small, quiet city. On slow nights when she made her appearance were Cheri’s favorite, being allowed the spare time to observe the way her body flowed with each step, her smile when she laughed and the way her lips glistened under a soft sheen of gloss. The girl had become the customer she so looked forward to serving, wondering when per chance her courage would not fail her and give her the jolt she needed to approach in a less than professional mannerism.
Apparently, tonight was Cheri’s night of choice.
“You can call me Cheri,” she tugged at the edge of the magnetic name tag which referred to her simply as “Red” and chuckled measly at the nickname she had been adorned with years prior, when she started out as Cherry - until the boss one day began a trend of the color red, which Cheri favored on the soft expanse of her lips over any other shade of gloss or lipstick. “This is simply a guise, y’know. I like to play the mysterious bartender, it’s worked so far.”
▏pour it up. «cheri | min»
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▏pour it up. «cheri | min»
+ strminyoung
She was here again.
Cheri swore under her breath, venomous words so gracefully rolled between stained-red lips as her eyes gauged the thickness of milky thighs moving along the wooden floor of the pub with such intent that the current cocktail had gone to waste, shaken one too many times and leaving a sticky mess along her hands. “Fuck,” and this one wasn’t so pretty, coming from a man directly in front of the female bartender, gruff voice snapping her straight from a daydream of pretty legs on her bar counter and a quiet mewl of Cheri, please. “That better be on the damn house, waste’a my time.” And no way in hell would a grey goose martini ever be on the house, she thought as she salvaged what was left in the shaker and tipped the spout of the bottle for just a hint more of liquor - if the man was deceived into believing he had more alcohol, then he’d surely forego the mistake she had made.
But then came that voice, one Cheri memorized as the owner of those deliciously plump thighs and delightfully full hips. When had anyone flustered the well-known bartender into messing up an order? When she was younger, perhaps, and less experienced, sure. But not now, not when her career and lifestyle depended on the poised nature of her mixing and the sultry flirting she had thrown in free of charge, or so the customer was made to believe; after all, her tips surely spiked with a sly smile or a pretty lil’ wink sent towards her favored male customers. Finishing up with a small garnish on the side of the martini glass, Cheri settled the drink on the sleek counter and allowed time for the man to fish out the appropriate amount of money, followed shortly by a, “Keep the change,” before he disappeared further into the lounge.
Finally.
This granted Cheri enough time to recollect herself over the sink as she rinsed the shaker carefully, fully aware of the sudden change in atmosphere as the lead girl of her daydream lent an elbow over the counter, small talk amongst friends of which cocktail they’d try tonight and if they’d rather have a cold beer from the cooler.
“Evening folks,” Cheri cocked her attention towards the less appealing friends that she was hoping to serve first and usher away from the bar, checking the I.D.s and then appropriately taking care of them. Simple enough, as they had decided on a few IPA’s they had recently invested in to showcase on their many available taps. Attention now on their drinks, the strawberry-blonde formulated her sentences quickly and pressed herself closer to the counter, square in front of the younger-looking female. A smile danced over her lipstick-dressed lips as Cheri purposely allowed her eyes to graze the female’s body up and down, of what could be seen from their position.
“What’s a beautiful girl like you doing paying for your own drinks, hm?”
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