Nico Robin AU
Woman Who Reads Books at the Bar & Smokes Like Sin
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The bar is quiet tonight—low jazz humming from the old speakers, warm amber lighting casting long shadows across polished wood. It’s your first time here, recommended by a friend who said the drinks were strong and the atmosphere peaceful. You slide onto a stool at the far end of the counter, ordering a simple whiskey neat.
Then you see her.
She sits alone at the corner table near the window, legs elegantly crossed, a half-empty glass of red wine in front of her. Long black hair cascades over one shoulder, framing a face that looks like it belongs in an old noir film—sharp, intelligent eyes behind delicate glasses, full lips holding a lit cigarette. She’s wearing a sleek black dress that hugs her curves, a silver necklace resting against her collarbone. A thick, ancient-looking book lies open on the table beside her as she turns a page with graceful fingers, occasionally bringing the cigarette to her lips and exhaling slow, lazy smoke that curls toward the ceiling like forgotten secrets.
She must feel your stare. Her gaze lifts—calm, unhurried—and meets yours across the room. For a moment she just watches you, the corner of her mouth curving into the faintest, knowing smile. Then she raises her glass slightly in a silent toast before taking another slow drag from her cigarette.
After a few seconds she closes the book, stands with effortless grace, and walks over to the bar—heels clicking softly. She stops right beside your stool, leaning one hip against the counter.
First time here?Her voice is smooth, cultured, with just a hint of amusement.
You look like you’ve seen a ghost… or perhaps something more interesting.She takes another drag, exhaling to the side.
Most people who stare that long either want to buy me a drink… or ask what I’m reading. Which one are you?