"Drinking alone?"

Ellie turned her head slightly, ready to roll her eyes at whatever line was coming next. Her eyes widened in surprise when saw the man standing on the other side of the empty barstool on her right. Though his eyes were dark, the red-rimmed irises caught her attention.

Her shoulders squared and she sat straighter as she studied him, instinctively looking for signs of a threat. Sensing none, she shrugged and cocked her head toward the open seat.

"I was."

He sat down, flashing a lopsided grin as he held out his hand. "I'm Christopher." He waited with his hand extended as she continued to eye him skeptically. "Oh come on then," he said, "I won't bite." He leaned in conspiratorially and winked. "Promise."

She couldn't tell whether he meant for her to get the joke, but it didn't matter; her steely expression broke. "Eleanor," she said, laughing in spite of herself and shaking his hand, "Eleanor Cullen."

The handshake lingered for a second longer, and he grinned again as he pulled his hand away. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Eleanor." He looked away from her long enough to wave the bartender over. "Tell me, what brings you to this shiesty little bar?"

She pondered her response, avoiding his eyes as he watched her wrinkle her nose and twist her mouth to the side. "First of all," she said, "Call me Ellie. No one calls me Eleanor unless I'm in trouble."

He laughed and nodded, waiting for her to continue.

"Umm..." She played with the cocktail napkin that appeared in front of her as he ordered two pints from the bartender. "I'm on my way home and decided to pass through the city first."

She didn't say where she'd been or how long she'd been away, but he nodded like he understood anyway. "Stalling?"

She laughed again, nodding, "Maybe a little. I left town a few months back and haven't seen my family in a while…" She paused as the drinks were set down in front of them, and she stared into her glass. When she didn't continue, Christopher reached out and gently placed his fingers on her chin, urging her to look back at him. When she met his eyes again, she was surprised to find an expression of genuine concern on his face.

"Why did you leave?"

She turned her head again, staring off away from the bar; only then did he let his hand drop. "It's complicated."

"Ah," he said. "Bad break up?"

Ellie made a face and looked back at him. "Something like that." She grabbed her glass and took a swig. "It doesn't matter now." She took another drink and shook her head, setting the glass back down on the bar. "I came here," she added with a smile, "because I heard you playing as I walked by. I liked your set."

Christopher ran a hand through his hair, a mess of dark curls, and smiled at her compliment. "Thank you. I actually didn't think you'd taken any notice." He had watched her from the stage as she walked into the small pub and sat down with her back to him. Never once did she turn to watch while he played.

She smiled and pushed her hair back over her shoulder. "I don't need to be distracted by a pretty face to listen to music."

He laughed and turned to angle himself closer to her, playfully nudging her knee with his own. "You think I'm pretty do you?" She blushed, shrugging as she reached again for her pint, while his remained untouched. He watched with open curiosity as she took a long sip.

"You're not hard to look at, no," she answered.

Without looking away from her, he picked up his own glass and held it out. "Well thank you," he said again. "I consider myself lucky to get two compliments in such short order."

She raised her eyebrows in mock offense as she clinked her glass to his. "Oh I see. Five minutes of chat and you think you've got me all figured out?"

It was her turn to watch with interest. She found it difficult not to be distracted by the shape of his mouth as she waited to see if any liquid passed his lips. With an impish grin at her, he held the glass there just long enough to look like he took a sip and then set the glass back down again.

"Quite the contrary," he said, his expression turning more serious. His hand slowly slid over the edge of the bar until the tips of his fingers rested ever so lightly on her hand. "I find you to be rather enigmatic."

She tensed at his touch, but didn't pull away. Instead, she found herself leaning closer, drawn by his scent as she breathed in more heavily. Neither of them moved, until he suddenly inhaled sharply and sat back, grimacing.

"You okay?" she said shakily, thrown off by his sudden retreat.

His hand moved from hers and he rubbed the back of his neck, looking around uncomfortably. "Yeah, sorry." He offered a tense smile. "Listen, would you like to get out of here? Take a walk or something?"

Ellie let go of the breath she'd been holding, understanding at once. "Oh, yeah. Of course."

He stood and grabbed his guitar, holding out his arm. "Shall we then?"

They walked in silence. Ellie found herself surprised at how comfortable it seemed.

"Sorry about before," he said quietly after a few blocks. "It just got a bit…crowded in there."

"It's okay," she replied, squeezing his arm a little. "I completely understand." She'd been too distracted by their conversation to notice much of what was going on around her, but once he'd called attention to the crowd, it instantly got harder for her to ignore. "Big groups of people can be a challenge for me too."

"Why's that?" He looked down at her curiously.

She stared ahead as they continued to walk, chewing her lip instead of answering. They'd played coy back at the bar, but she started to think she had let too much slip already. He pulled his arm free, taking her hand.

"Come on," he said, tugging her along. She had to jog to keep up.

"Where are we going?!"

"Bang a left up here!" he called over his shoulder. When they reached a darkened pier, he slowed his gait and threw her an apologetic grin. "Sorry."

She laughed and playfully shoved his shoulder. "I would have come along, you know. No need to drag me through the street."

He stopped and whirled to face her, letting go of her hand and lightly touching her face.

"You really would have, wouldn't you?" His head tilted slightly to the side, and she pressed her teeth into her bottom lip as her heartbeat sped up again. Again, this seemed to catch his attention. He cleared his throat and took her hand again. "Come on."

They came right to edge of the pier and he sat down, patting the space beside him. She obliged, sitting down with one leg under her and the other hanging over the edge and turning so that she faced him. He stared out over the edge, where tiny broken slivers of moonlight bounced along the ripples in the water.

"So," he said, exhaling slowly and glancing over at her. "Where were we?"

"I think we were in the middle of me telling you too much, and you not telling me much of anything at all."

He chuckled. "To be fair, you haven't asked me anything yet." He turned himself to mimic her position, holding his hands out to his sides, palms facing outward. "Ask away."

She wrinkled her nose as she debated what to ask first before just blurting one out at random. "Do you play there often?"

Christopher had braced for worse than that, and couldn't help but laugh. His amusement echoed out into the night; the sound was much louder out in the open than at the bar.

"That's what you want to know?"

Ellie crossed her arms over her chest, huffing indignantly. "Yes. Yes it is."

"Oh, okay," he said, playing along. "No, not often. Couple times a year, maybe. I usually find a few places to play every once in a while in whatever city I happen to be living in."

Ellie nodded and looked out over the water. Christopher waited, watching her nibble her lip. "What else?" he prodded when she didn't speak again.

"You travel a lot."

"That's not really a question." He angled his head so he could better see her face.

"No, I suppose it's not."

"Ellie," he said coaxingly, "what is it?"

This got her to look at him. "What's what?"

"It's okay. We don't have to do this." He slid closer, and reached out to touch her hand, which was now bracing the edge of the pier. "I didn't mean to push."

When he touched her, the tension in her muscles relaxed, and she stretched out her fingers, allowing him to weave his own between them. He wedged his thumb underneath to gently stroke her palm, and she stared down at where their hands were joined.

"You didn't. I think I just chickened out a little."

She felt his hand shake a little, and looked over to find him trying to swallow another laugh. "What?"

"Sorry. I am just having trouble picturing you chickening out of anything. I was really quite surprised that you didn't run off after I approached you tonight."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "You're not that scary, Mr. Big-Bad Vampire." They both froze for moment as the word hung in the air between them. Before he could recover, she surprised him again. "Hey, that wasn't so bad after all," she said, sticking her tongue out.

"That's real mature," Christopher mumbled, chucking nervously. He shook his head and looked up at the sky. "We'll come back to the matter of me not being scary," he looked back at her with a wink, "but answer me this, Eleanor Cullen: When did you know, and how?"

She looked at their hands, still together, and began to trace over his knuckles with the index finger of her free hand. "Um," she stalled, changing her path to include the bones of his wrist, "I knew as soon as I looked at you when you came up to me at the bar."

He tensed, surprised to find she had recognized his true nature so quickly. "And how?"

She pulled her free hand away, pushing her hair back out of her face and holding it back behind her head. "My family…they are, well…they're like you."

He nodded slowly, trying to imagine a house full of vampires raising…well, he didn't know what to call her. "And you?"

Her head tilted to the side, and the corner of her lips quirked upward on one side. The slight copper highlight in her hair caught his eye as it shimmered in the moonlight, and he was reminded of how she immediately captivated his attention from the moment she stepped into the bar. Her creamy skin had a nearly human-looking pink glow, and her crystal blue eyes were not those of an immortal.

"And me what?" she whispered, breaking his concentration on her features.

He reached out with his free hand, tracing the curve of her cheek with his fingertips, trailing lower until he reached her collarbone, his thumb barely resting on the hollow of her throat. He stared at his hand on her skin, awed by the warmth radiating off of her, and mesmerized by the bizarre flutter of her heart within her chest. He could feel her breathing speed up as his touch lingered.

"What are you?"