The petite figure walked lethargically down the bare, dark streets of New York. The occasional car would pass by, and the sidewalk was reasonably lit by all the buildings surrounding the area. Other than that, life on the road was scarce. A sigh escaped her lips as she plopped down into the bench at her designated bus stop. After an hour of dance and then six hours of working as a waitress at the local diner (on a Friday night, mind you), it could really tire a girl out. She stretched out her legs, covered by a pair of faded jeans. Around the knees she had various rips and tears, revealing porcelain, sun kissed skin. She made a face, observing the bruises on her knees she'd already received from the dance routine she was working on. She bruised so easily.

The girl, by the name of Olivia Jane Roberts, reached up and pulled out the thick brown hair tie that held up her long blond hair. It fell around her shoulders and tickled her cheeks. She tucked the strands behind her ears then readjusted her worn out black messenger bag, placing it on her lap. Tapping her feet, which were tightly laced up with her knee-high pink converse, Olivia waited impatiently for the bus. She'd been taking the bus to and from all her desired destinations for four years since she was twelve. Back then, it was always an adventure and a bit frightening to get on a bus all on her own. Now, at sixteen, it was second nature and no longer seemed like such an awesome thing.

The wind picked up for a moment, and her over sized leather jacket and white racer back tank top was just enough to prevent her from chattering her teeth. She shivered, but wasn't sure if it was because of the temperature…
Her almond shaped eyes averted in the direction her bus was supposed to arrive from, her bright green iris' scanning the dimly lit surroundings curiously. All the while, something was observing her with just as much curiosity…

Nikita Landus sat on the filthy ground in an alleyway between two tall red-bricked buildings. The intimidating aura of the place wasn't anything compared to the hell he'd been through. Even if he did happen to run into someone meaning any sort of harm, it definitely wouldn't be an issue. Self-defence techniques weren't needed in his case. Sure, he wasn't brawny. But no matter how slight his muscles may seem at first glance, they rippled through his body and possessed more power than any human could ever be capable of.

Now, however, he was using the alleyways in hopes of not running into one of the pitiful creatures. He'd surely waited too long, convincing himself he could last longer than a month without feeding. 'Idiot' he thought to himself bitterly, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. Now his thirst was beyond thick. It was stupidly thick. He needed it badly, his body growing weak. He feared he wouldn't be able to have the strength to hunt, let alone stand. In frustration, he banged his head against the bricks behind him. No pain was recognized, even though he'd hit it pretty hard.

It wasn't until he let out an exhausted sigh that he heard footsteps. Slow, lazy footsteps, which were no doubt those of a human. He could then feel the wind starting to pick up.

"Shit…" he muttered to himself quickly at an almost inaudible volume. He knew now that the soft breeze would blow the person's hair or pick up their delicious scent, only to send it his way. This poor pathetic creature would be dead before they knew it, and Nikita would carry the guilt for his whole life, just as he'd done with all the other lives he'd viciously taken. He could just imagine, though, how delectable it would be after centuries of resistance… feeling the warm, familiar, thick liquid drip down his aching throat…

No, he mustn't think such things.

Focus, he ordered himself mentally, You must focus. He braced himself, stiffening to the stillness of stone and holding his unnecessary breath. But nothing came. Not one fragment of temptation for blood crept into his nose. His brow knitted together in confusion. What happened? He crept to the corner of the alleyway, peering around it. Yes, there certainly was someone there. A female, sitting at the bus stop. This was so peculiar. He had such an acute sense of smell, even though he was a 'vegetarian', in vampire terms. It didn't seem right that he couldn't find any trace of blood. It was almost as though she had water running through her veins and arteries instead of the sweet crimson his kind adored.

Nikita gathered his strength and stood. It didn't take a whole lot of effort, just a lot more than usual. It was exhausting to stand, but not entirely impossible. He took quiet, cautious steps towards the bench, observing the girl the whole time. He half hoped he would smell something, and then his frustration could be denied and wiped away. However, he also half feared that would happen, not wanting to hurt her.

But still, nothing happened. He approached her further, still searching. Nothing. He decided a risk was meant to be taken at this point.
"Excuse me, miss?" he spoke, his voice softer than needed.

Olivia jumped, having not heard anyone coming up so quickly. But his words caught her off guard; they had been so delicate, so smooth. Not a single falter. She turned, and felt her mouth drop slightly in awe of his perfect face. The purplish circles around his piercing grey eyes, his almost white skin making him appear as though he were glowing, his shaggy mess of jet-black hair… His appearance was so incredible, it became intimidating. Her reply never came; she merely gawked at him for a long moment.

Nikita smirked inwardly. He could talk anyone into doing anything. He'd always been rather persuasive. Not to mention the gift of beauty that had been given to him in exchange for his soul was extremely useful.

"What bus is this?" he asked so eloquently, though his words were similar to that of everyday talk. He still stood behind the back of the bench, sort of towering over the poor creature. She was within his reach...

Olivia closed her mouth, finally, and swallowed. She averted her green eyes away from his face for a moment, gathering her thoughts.
"Uh… route ninety-eight." She answered.

Nikita released the full power of his gleaming smile on her. "Great, that's mine." He then gripped the top of the back of the bench and swung his legs over effortlessly. The movement was so swift, that Olivia couldn't help but stare.
He noticed her ogling, and raised his eyebrows curiously.

"What is it?" he asked her simply, seeming to sound offended. The hurt puppy look was also one of his many talents.

Olivia blinked and shook her head, averting her eyes elsewhere, anywhere but his sharp grey eyes.

"Nothing…" she mumbled.

A long, deathly silent moment passed without a single noise. Olivia noticed he was too still. As if he weren't even breathing.. as if he didn't have a pulse... He was sitting nonchalantly with his legs apart, slouching slightly. However, even in such a natural pose of any New Yorker, it seemed too… perfect. As if he were etched from solid granite or some sort of crystal.

She started chewing on her bottom lip, waiting for the bus to come, and waiting for him to move. Oh crap, was he dead? Olivia risked a glance in his direction, and unfortunately caught his eyes on hers. He seemed frustrated, like he couldn't find something or was searching desperately for the answer to some impossible quesion. She quickly looked the other way. She started fidgeting with the sleeves of her leather jacket, rolling them up to the crease at her elbow.

Nikita was too tired to try and analyze the situation any further within the barriers of his own mind. "What's your name…?" he asked finally. His tone was sharper than before. He's made the mistake of letting his impatience get the best of him.

His voice still gave her a strange chill, the way it pierced the silence so viciously. But it was his question that frightened her. It wasn't asked in that polite, small talk way… It was posed in an intimidating and almost threatening way.

Of course, Nikita didn't mean for it to sound like this. He was simply excruciatingly irritated that he couldn't find a scent. What the hell was wrong with him? Honestly… was he just imagining it all? Was this girl even real? Oh great… He was hallucinating. That was a sure sign of insanity. Comforting.

Olivia gathered her thoughts slowly. She cleared her throat, and answered meekly.

"Olivia."

He nodded. Now, since it was common courtesy, he had to tell her his name.

"Nikita." Came his reply.

"Hi." Olivia said pathetically. Nikita had to stifle his laughter. Typical human.

"Hi." He said, struggling to conceal his patronizing smirk.

A few more moments passed, Olivia looking the opposite direction to him, him staring at her in confusion. Her skin was so fragile, thin and almost translucent. He could see her blue veins, strong and visible, trace down her wrists and up her arms. It was crazy to think she had no odor. So unusual... Any other like herself with such fine qualities of temptation, would have a strong smell. A nice smell, not too sweet and without a trace of bitterness or sour after taste... The perfect blood. Bizarre...

The silence continued without a skip. Until, that is, he finally got fed up and did a pretty risky thing. An extremely risky thing, in fact. Slowly, but surely, Nikita's body seemed to lean towards the girl. At the same time, his head tilted as if he were going to whisper something in Olivia's ear. Then, he took a deep, slow breath in through his nose, and carefully out his mouth. Nothing at all.

She felt his exhalation on the nape of her neck and whipped around to whack him away. He was already well out of her line of reach, staring at her with wide, innocent eyes. She screeched before slipping off the edge of the bench. Once landing firmly on her backside, coincidentally into a shallow puddle of dirty, polluted New York water, Olivia stared up at him in horror. It felt like an hour that they stared at each other with equal amounts of shock, when in fact it was merely a few moments. Without a second thought, she jumped to her feet, clutched her bag and ran. Oh, how she ran. Never looking back once, the girl ran straight home.

Nikita sighed in aggravation.

"Idiot…" he muttered to himself.

Well, thanks to his dominant curiosity, at least he'd gained some strength. He stood, glancing once more in the direction Olivia had run off in, then he was off for the night, venturing to the forests outside of New York to feed.

He'd deal with this situation later.