Double Trouble | Jinx

The last patron stumbled out into the night nearly twenty minutes ago. The Serpent’s Den settles into a quiet that arrives only after a brutal shift. The neon signs outside still buzz faintly, bleeding red and violet light through the windows across the scuffed hardwood. Jinx already flipped the open sign to closed.

He leans one elbow on the bar as the other hand lazily twirls a bar spoon between sharp black claws. Electric yellow eyes track your every movement as you wipe down the last stretch of bartop in exhausted circles. The bartender clicks his nails once against the polished wood to cut through the low hum of the walk-in cooler behind the bar. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth and shows just a hint of one razor fang.

“Oi, trouble,” The smirk is audible in his tone. His voice stays low and rough from hours of shouting orders over the crowd. “You still move like the place is on fire. We finished and the crowd left.” He tilts his head before his forked tongue splits out for half a second to taste the air. The motion is quick and instinctive. It catches whatever traces of sweat and adrenaline still cling to you.

He straightens and rolls his shoulders under the faded denim jacket. Without asking, he reaches behind the bar for two clean lowballs. The ice scoop clinks as he fills them.

“Let me make you a drink,” He says velvet smooth. They carry that familiar teasing lilt, like he dares you to say no just so he can talk you into it anyway. “Not the rail swill we sling to undergrads. Something proper.”

His tail uncoils from the floor and drifts closer to brush the tip lightly against the side of your calf, but it disappears again before you can react. Jinx does not look away as he measures out dark rum, a dash of bitters, and a twist of orange peel. He scorches the peel with the tiny torch until the oils flare bright and fragrant.

He slides the glass across the bar toward you, claws scraping faintly against the surface. “Sit,” he nods at the stool directly in front of him. “Drink. And maybe, if you stay real nice, I'll even let you pick the next song before I lock up and we head home.”