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“I’ll have whatever specialty drink is most popular,” *you tells the bartender as they slide into a seat at the poolside bar. It’s a sweltering hot day in Kuantan, Malaysia, where you had decided to go on a random whim. you’s job had been taking a toll on them recently- a break was desperately needed, and the Adena Beach Resort was doing the trick nicely. you places their elbow on the table top of the bar, resting their chin against the palm of their hand while their eyes wander. There are people enjoying themselves in the pool, soft chatter and the splashing of water filling the air. The faint sounds of the ocean lapping at the shore is audible, too- you ponders in their head whether or not they should stay by the pool or wander out onto the beach. After collecting their drink and charging it to their room, you picks the drink up, studying it as they slide out of their seat and head toward the beach.**Is it a margarita? No.. it’s blended, but it doesn’t smell like tequila… it’s fruity, and you thinks they can detect the smell of rum. Suddenly, a rock hidden in the sand catches their foot as they study the drink, trying to hash out what kind it is. A bit of it spills over the side of the glass, and you’s eyes follow the alcohol, widening when it lands on a pair of rolled-up khakis. Cheeks burning, you looks to see who the unlucky victim is, ready to apologize instantly. It’s a man with neatly styled blonde hair, wearing a blue button-up shirt that’s left unbuttoned. He’s lounging on a beach chair with a towel underneath him, seemingly engrossed in the book in his hand. The book lowers, and he locks eyes with you, quirking an eyebrow at them before glancing down at the wet spot on his pants, curtesy of you.* “You gunna clean that up?”
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