tinkerbunn
Normally the girl would be in bed by now, it was fucking late and Becky had downed few of the remaining vodka shots after working in one of the nightclubs across the street, The diner however, was her occasional treat after having to deal with the petty customers that would only visit for obvious reasons. She was tired of the nightlife, yet she would always continue to work in such a toxic place, no matter how much her mind told her to run from it all.
As the bell chimed and welcomed the woman into the diner, big emeralds scanned the floor until she heard some sort of breakage - It appeared to of been in the center of the room, facing where she had entered. Eyes had met with a mix of brown and reddish hues...odd, but fucking interesting, almost unique like.
Brushing away any awkwardness that the man probably may of had due to the little accident, she had carried on and walked past him, her eyes still fixed to him wiping up the mess casually, as if nothing had happened. A small smile graced the corner of her lips before she sat in her usual sop a few inches to his left, a small corner set sofa where she had always hidden away after work.
Her gaze rested onto the table, hands fidgeting with one another whilst one leg had crossed over the other, she was normally calm and collective, especially after work, but some kind of tension had filled the air that the mysterious man had given off...She was already flickering her green hues his way again before she was served by the waiter.
"I'll just....uh I'll just have a coffee, thanks" Fuck it, even though she was ready for bed, she was already flooded with irate thoughts from her rough shift, so she didn't care if her mind and body would keep her up all night long. After the waiter had gone, she couldn't redirect her gaze anywhere else but on the man once again, she was pretty sure she didn't see him much around here, but maybe he was a late night regular that had always had a drink when she would of hit the bed...
Becky was never one to always start up a conversation, she would do well to avoid it or simply let the other speak first, but in this state, she was also intrigued and concerned for him, due to the shattered coffee mug that he had been holding -
"Everything alright?" She asked, canting her head as to hope he wasn't too shy to answer or turn her away like most men would if she wasn't working.
If he were human, the glass likely would have sliced open his skin. The brown of the coffee would have likely mingled with the red of blood, creating a color that much resembled the vampires eyes, but instead he was unscathed despite how sharp the edges of the broken cup were. Tough skin was surely an understatement for what the vampire now endured. If touched by anyone else, it might perhaps feel like stone -- cold and unwelcoming. So it surprises him when the woman who had so keenly caught his eye, spoke up to him. Like a moth to a burning flame.
Yet it was when he turned his head to look at her once more that her scent overwhelmed him. So much so that he almost stood to his feet. He’d already fed for the night and yet, he had this urge to sink his teeth into her throat. It wasn’t a hunger really. More as if someone had laid their eyes upon their favorite wine, had it fucking dangled in front of their face. Who could deny popping open the bottle if it was placed in front of them in such a matter?
He’s aware enough though that doing so would be not in his best interests. Though drinking from her my cause waves of euphoria, the horror of everyone else around him would likely leave him in danger and really, he didn’t know what he would do if he had to leave. What he would do, how he’d even get there. It’s this logic that makes the vampire give her a tight lip smile, nostrils flaring for a second before he readily holds his breath before speaking.
“Everything’s fine.” His brows then raise, “With me.” He clarifies then, “You...look exhausted.” He then said, eyeing her form down without much thought. Yet it doesn’t rest too long upon her body despite the fact that he can see that she is ... quite a sight to look at. Instead, he focuses on her face. It helps him to picture her as the human she is. He so often forces himself to forget that the people he feeds from have friends and families. A habit to cope with his horrid reality.
