"Another shot of gin, please."
The bartender stared at the man with an astonished look. "That's the fifth one you had this hour," he said, wondering just how tipsy this guy must've been already.
He had been sitting there for at least two hours, not saying a word to anyone around him and just drinking one alcoholic beverage after another like it was water; mostly gin. It was hard to tell how drunk he was based on appearance, due to the fact that he wore dark glasses, his head covered in an old cap of sort, slightly crooked now, but his expression remained unfazed and stern.
He then cleared his throat, nudging the empty glass toward the bartender. "I said - another shot of gin, please. I have enough money, I'll drink as much as I please." His voice came out less composed than usual, though that could've been the only sign of his drunkenness at this point.
He had no idea how much longer he would have to stay at that bar. It wasn't like he had a choice in the matter either way, considering how he couldn't seem to find the guy who had brought him to this place. "Damn you, Ralf," he muttered under his breath, instantly gulping down half the glass of gin once it arrived. Apparently, he would have to head home alone this time, as there was no sign of this guy named Ralf anywhere in sight.
"Ralf you say, huh?" came a woman's voice from nearby. She then sauntered over to where the capped man sat, easing herself into a seat next to him. "Did he ditch you again, I take it?"
"What?" He set his glass down and gave her a weary look. "Look, Leona, I don't even know you that well, just leave me alone in my misery. Ralf probably got buzzed and is screwing random chicks as we speak. It's none of my business. Hmph."
"Clark? Misery? The two words don't seem to connect. Of course, you know me… Not as well as you'd like…" She winked. "But you do know me well enough, I'm sure of it."
"Yeah, ok." He frowned, which wasn't all too visible behind his glasses. Why the hell was he wearing those indoors? That was a question that he would never answer. It would be too painfully obvious otherwise.
"Why are you blushing?" she asked in a cheeky voice, referring to the pink tint that had taken over Clark's complexion.
Strangely enough, it had already been there before she even arrived.
"What?" Again, he was baffled. If he had been "blushing" as she said, there sure as hell wasn't a good enough reason for it. "It's the alcohol, Leona. I'm as buckled as a belt." He certainly had a habit for ruining the moment, as his features took on an even more serious appearance, his lids lowered behind his shades. "If you knew anything about me you would know that me and Ralf are drinking buddies on Fridays. Sometimes… he just slips away. But that's nothing for either of us to worry about now, is it?"
"Nope!" She shook her head and ordered herself a drink before turning to Clark with a smile. "But it does make me wonder how you'll be getting back home, what with him being gone and all. Doesn't Ralf do the driving most of the time? You're just the bitch."
"Stop it."
"What? I'm just asking." She continued to tease this man, her alcohol level being nowhere near as high as his own, but it was enough to make her more playful. "I'm genuinely curious how you plan to get back home. Ralf ditched you, I know it. Does he do this every week?"
"Eh…" He huffed and turned away, not bothering to even reply.
"No, I'm serious. You're drunk. I think you need a ride home, most of all, and…" She swiped his glass away and drank down the remainder of his gin. "…that's what I'm here to offer. You don't really think I'd let a comrade depend on the likes of a stranger, do you?"
Again, he didn't reply, only scowled at the fact that she had stolen his drink. If he could count how many he had that night, it would have been at least twelve and a half, not counting the miniscule amount that Leona had just swigged. But he was a big, strong man - He could handle that much alcohol like it was nothing. Hell, he could've even drunk twice as much as that and still be alert. Or at least that's what he thought.
"Fine," he then conceded, adjusting his hat before standing up, his posture slightly unsteady due to his current state of drunkenness. "I feel like going home right now. Is that a problem?"
"Not at all!" She patted his back, hooking her arm around one of his own, leading him towards the exit just as the bartender collected all their glasses. "I can tell you're really buzzing," she said with a smirk. "But don't worry - I'm as sober as they come. I'll just -" She opened the door and shoved him out, snickering in amusement when he stumbled. "Yeah, you're fun this way, Clark."