The young woman who'd been sitting two seats down from Robert at the bar for quite some time abruptly turned to him, as though at the urging of her companion, and smiled with her sharp, elongated canines fully on display. Once she was certain he'd noticed, her grin temporarily broadened. "Your friends are never going to believe you."
Robert started out of his daze, seeing as he’d been watching The Game on the big TV at Jim and Kim’s. Upon seeing the fangs protruding from the young woman’s mouth, Robert winced, thinking he’d probably been hitting the whiskey too hard.
However…those words… “Your friends will never believe you.” That sounded like a challenge. And Robert never backed down from a challenge.
He smirked. Well, this could be interesting. “They never do,” he said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. Something about this…creature (for he could never call…whatever the heck “it” was anything more than some kind of animal) made him want to watch it, to not take his eyes off it. It unsettled him, like the morning after too much whiskey on an empty stomach.
And he absolutely didn’t like that feeling.
But Robert could absolutely play it cool. Cool was his middle name. “Haven’t seen anything like you ‘round these parts before,” he mumbles in that way he does when he’s been forced to make small talk. God, he hates small talk.