The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue across the settlements. Seren had just left Layla's side.
Layla seeking a moment to herself to absorb the beauty of the sunset from the hill overlooking the bustling market below. The sight of merchants closing their stalls, children running around with carefree laughter, and the flicker of torches being lit as the evening approached filled her heart with a sense of freedom. She hadn't felt this liberated in a long time.
As she gazed over the settlement center, Layla felt a wave of contentment wash over her. She was glad she had left home to search for Seren, who had always been a symbol of strength and independence in her life. This was her chance to escape the mundane expectations of her parents, who had always pressured her into the laborious, uninspiring work they valued so much. For the first time in what felt like forever, Layla felt the stirrings of her own dreams—dreams untainted by her parents' desires.
The sky was a canvas of deep purples and fiery oranges when something caught Layla's eye. She blinked, focusing on a figure moving through the crowd near the market. Her heart skipped a beat. There he was—the guy with gray hair and black eyes. She'd been looking for him since she first saw him, his image imprinted in her mind like a vivid painting.
"If I can see him correctly, that's got to be him," she murmured to herself, squinting to get a better look. "I think his name is Damien," she added, trying to recall the name the other guys had called him when he first approached her.
Layla's heart raced. She wanted nothing more than to run up to him, to get close to this mysterious guy who had unknowingly captured her attention. But then she remembered Seren's warning not to wander too far from where they had separated. It was getting dark, and the settlement was a large place. She didn't know much about it yet, and getting lost was the last thing she wanted.
"AHH!" Layla groaned in frustration, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "I don't want to miss this hottie again."
From her vantage point, she watched as Damien made his way through the crowd with effortless grace. He was striking, to say the least. His silver-gray hair fell just above his shoulders, giving him an air of rugged refinement. His black eyes were like dark pools of mystery, intense and captivating, often glinting with secrets that beckoned one to dive in and uncover them. He stood tall and proud, his lean, muscular build evident even beneath the dark jeans and fitted shirt he wore. Occasionally, he would slip on a leather jacket that only added to his edgy appeal.
Layla's eyes traced the small scar above his right eyebrow—a mark that suggested a past filled with untold stories and hidden battles. Despite his quiet demeanor and tendency to blend into the background, there was something undeniably charismatic about him. He was the kind of person you couldn't forget after just one glance.
As she watched him disappear into a bar at the edge of the market, Layla debated with herself. Should she go in and thank him for helping her when she was lost? She remembered how frustrated and helpless she felt, unable to find Seren's address. Just as she was about to give up, it was Damien who noticed her plight. He had approached her with a calm, gentle presence, offering to guide her to where she needed to go.
With a deep breath and a surge of determination, Layla decided to follow him. She wanted to thank him properly this time and, perhaps, get to know him a little better. She descended the hill and made her way through the thinning crowd, her heart pounding in her chest.
Entering the bar, Layla was immediately struck by the cool, relaxed atmosphere. The dim lighting cast a cozy glow over the room, and the soft hum of conversations mixed with the smooth, soulful music playing in the background. The crowd was sparse, just enough people to create a warm, inviting vibe. She saw groups of friends laughing together, couples sharing intimate moments, and individuals lost in their own thoughts. There was a sense of happiness and camaraderie in the air, something she hadn't felt in a long time.
But as she scanned the room, she realized Damien was nowhere to be seen. Layla's heart sank. She had been so sure she would find him here. Undeterred, she approached the bar, hoping to at least find some clue as to where he might have gone.
She took a seat at the bar, facing the bartender, who greeted her with a friendly smile. "What would you like to jiggy, miss?" he asked, his voice warm and welcoming.
Layla hesitated, glancing at the selection behind the bar. She decided to order a drink first; she had learned that people were often more helpful when you were a paying customer. "Ah, what's on your list?" she asked, buying herself a little more time to think.
The bartender rattled off a few names. "We have oak barrel stout, ironclad lager, bitter root ale..."
"Yeah, give me that," Layla interrupted, the last name ringing a bell in her head. She didn't know why, but something about it felt familiar.
"Right away," the bartender replied, nodding as he turned to prepare her drink. He seemed mildly amused, as if he was used to newcomers not quite knowing what they were getting themselves into.
When he returned with the drink, Layla took it with a grateful nod and raised it to her lips. The first sip nearly made her forget her reason for coming into the bar in the first place. The ale was strong, far stronger than anything she was used to from her city.
"Bitterroot Ale… holy shit, this is way stronger than my city's own," she muttered, recalling the first time she had tried it. It was at a festival back home, and she had spent the rest of the night dancing and laughing with her friends, feeling freer than she ever had before. The memory made her smile, a bittersweet reminder of simpler times.
As she took another sip, she turned her attention back to the room, determined to find some sign of Damien. She knew she couldn't let this opportunity slip away. He was the first person in a long time who had made her feel like there was more to life than just following the path laid out for her by others. And she wasn't about to let that go.
She looked back at the bartender, deciding to try her luck. "Hey, did you happen to see a guy with gray hair and black eyes come in here?" she asked, her voice tinged with a hint of hope.
The bartender raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "You mean Damien? Yeah, he was here a few minutes ago. I think he stepped out the back for some fresh air. He does that sometimes. Keeps to himself mostly, but he's a good guy."
Layla felt a spark of excitement. He was still here. She had a chance. She thanked the bartender and slid off her stool, her heart racing as she made her way to the back of the bar. She pushed open the door and stepped out into the cool night air, her eyes scanning the dimly lit alley.
There, leaning against the wall with a cigarette in hand, was Damien. He looked up as the door closed behind her, his dark eyes meeting hers. For a moment, neither of them said anything, the silence stretching between them like a taut wire. Then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corners of Damien's mouth.
"Hey," he said, his voice low and smooth, like the first sip of a strong drink. "Fancy meeting you here."
Layla felt her cheeks flush, a mixture of nerves and excitement flooding her senses. "Hey," she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I… I just wanted to thank you. For helping me the other day."
Damien's smile widened, and he took a slow drag of his cigarette before replying. "No need to thank me. Just seemed like you could use a little help, is all."
Layla nodded, suddenly feeling shy under his intense gaze. She wasn't sure what to say next, but she knew she didn't want this moment to end. She wanted to know more about him, to understand the secrets hidden behind those dark eyes.
As they stood there, the night wrapping around them like a comforting blanket, Layla realized that this was just the beginning of something new—something she hadn't dared to dream of before. And for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
Layla suddenly remembered she needed to go and wait for Seren. "Ahh, sorry, I have to go," she said, quickly standing up.
Damien smiled. "Where are you headed? I can walk you there if you don't mind."
Caught off guard by his kindness, Layla hesitated but then nodded. "Okay, that would be nice."
As they reached the door, Layla paused. "Give me a minute," she said, rushing back to the bar. She approached the bartender, who had always been kind to her. "Are you hiring? I was thinking of working here."
The bartender nodded. "We could use some extra hands on weekends. Come by tomorrow, and we can talk more."
Relieved, Layla turned to leave but heard her name being called frantically. She spun around and saw Seren at the back of the bar, looking disheveled and bruised. Layla's heart dropped.
"Seren!" she cried, rushing over. "What happened?"