[ Still no word from Sen; a glance at their phone, brow briefly furrowing, confirms it. A glance toward the bar reveals no sign of the man, though it looks like Andi maybe threw a glance at something or some-Sen. Rin’s hand tightens around the phone; they’d rather be at the bar than here, and their mood's starting to sour. (Sen just came home. Sen just came home; why is anyone getting in the way of Rin's progress toward Sen? There's nothing about it that's fair.)

The man's still talking. Gave a name that Rin missed; gave a name that doesn't really matter. And there's something about ‘linguistic prowess,’ something about soft skin and stunning eyes, something about a heavenly glow; preliminary compliments strewn, with the promise of exaltation to follow. Rin blinks, shakes their head once, a subtle gesture. ]

I’m not interested.

[ A simple statement, gently laid and landing on a blunt ending. A statement that ought to signal silence, but there’s a faux huff, and the stranger leans forward, brushes a fall of hair back from his eyes. Grinning; coaxing.

’So tense. Let me take care of you, beautiful, and I’ll melt all your troubles away.’

It’s not the worst attempt Rin’s heard. It also isn’t anything they want, and they feel their shoulders tense, their jaw setting slightly. ’Breathe,’ they think, and do. Breathe. There's no need to turn this confrontational. No need to embroil themself in this conversation any longer. When they speak, their voice is clipped, but gracious enough. ]

Charmed, but as I said: no.

[ And, when the man begins to protest, opens his (fucking) (’breathe, Rin, breathe') mouth to speak, Rin raises a forefinger, tilted slightly toward the man. ]

Have your drink, soak in the atmosphere. Try your luck elsewhere if you like, but our interaction ends here.