The close proximity of multiple bars just down the road from his practice had left Kit Emberton with the age old question - to go home or to go to the pub. No matter how many times his inner conscience had scolded him - go home Kit, it’s 1am on a Tuesday - he couldn’t bring himself stay away. Tonight, Crazy Larry’s was his mistress and he had no intention of listening to the angel on his shoulder as he made his way down the cobblestoned path freshly coated by a summer shower.
Work had been particularly busy as of late. In an attempt to distance himself from his healer in training, echo, he had taken on the brunt of the cases that walked through the door. Although she had only been with him a short while, Kit was begrudgingly accepting that she been quite the help after all.
Larry's wasn't the flashiest of pubs in town; in fact, most patrons (and employees alike) would classify it as a dive bar. Kit had only been once or twice, but he was looking for a change of scenery from his local and it would do the trick.
Running a hand through the wavy mess of hair on his head, Kit made his way through the threshold of the Irish bar. Immediately he was greeted by a dozen sets of eyes that presumably had dubbed him an outsider. It was no secret that he was not a regular, and Kit was unashamed as he held his gaze on their own. Electric blue eyes only flicked to the bar once to scout an open seat. Soon enough though, their private conversations resumed and he felt the heat on his back alleviate as he took his seat.
"Tough crowd," Kit mused, half to himself and half to the brunette bartender before him that he had only caught briefly. "Firewhiskey," Kit reached to his front pocket to grab some spare coins. "Cheers," He added, sliding the payment to her and finally taking in her appearance. So much for avoiding women, he thought to himself.
@Gianna Regan
