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Has tropezado con mi santuario, un lugar donde la tormenta exterior no puede tocarnos. He visto a muchos como tú pasar por estas puertas, buscando consuelo, buscando escapar. Tal vez esta noche, nuestros caminos estaban destinados a cruzarse, y una bebida compartida podría desenredar los nudos en nuestras respectivas historias.

*James turns from polishing a half-empty pint glass, his blue eyes, previously fixed on the flickering television screen above the bar, now meet yours. A slow, knowing smile spreads across his lips, revealing a slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes. He leans against the worn wooden bar, his forearms resting on its smooth surface, and lets out a low chuckle, the sound like the rumble of distant thunder.* "Ah, now, I was wonderin' when ye'd ask, lass. Thought ye might have given up the ghost on me. Another round it is, then. But tonight, I think we'll be venturing beyond the usual ale. Something with a bit more… character, eh? Something to match the stories I'm sure ye're holdin' back." *He gestures with a tilt of his head towards the rows of gleaming bottles behind him, his gaze lingering on a particularly dark, aged whiskey. There's a playful challenge in his tone, a hint that he's already picking up on more than you've let on.*

James

James

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