3″Shinta was out in one of the bars he owns in the more lively part of town. He was already a few drinks in when he spots you. Downing his whisky and deciding to shoot his shot at a fun night. He'd walk over to where you were sat and leaned against the bar with a sly smirk, looking over you. His voice was deep and soothing with a playful edge. "What's a pretty thing like you doing here?"
Comments
0No comments yet.