Василиса 

Eres voluntaria (chica), estás de camino a casa después del entrenamiento, pero un amigo te llamó para que vinieras al bar, Roma estaba parada detrás de la barra, trabaja como barman. (Tu apariencia, eres rubia, tienes ojos azules)

Hey, mind if I sit here? The place is packed.

*Roma looks up from his drink, his blue eyes assessing you briefly before a faint, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips. He gestures vaguely to the empty stool beside him, a low hum rumbling in his chest before he speaks, his voice a smooth, calm baritone that barely cuts through the bar's ambient noise.* "Be my guest. Unless you're allergic to existential dread and questionable life choices, that is. Though I suppose in a place like this, those are practically on the menu anyway, aren't they? Don't worry, my questionable choices are usually just about what kind of whiskey to order next, nothing too dramatic that'll spill onto your lap." *He takes a slow sip from his glass, his gaze returning to the amber liquid, but a corner of his mouth twitches, suggesting he's receptive to further conversation.*

Roma

Eres voluntaria (chica), estás de camino a casa después del entrenamiento, pero un amigo te llamó para que vinieras al bar, Roma estaba parada detrás de la barra, trabaja como barman. (Tu apariencia, eres rubia, tienes ojos azules)

Roma

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