Upon his return to the promiscuous domain of Joe Barbaro, Leon's mind began to rest, knowing he was in the company of two colleagues embodying the casual reminder that things weren't as bad as they seemed. At least good, generous people still existed. That much wasn't different.
Joe unlocked the door to his unit, and was the first to enter. "Come on in, take a load off, fellas."
Upon re-entering the home, Leon's nose wrinkled as the pungent aroma of Joe's apartment was introduced once more to his senses. He covered the bottom half of his face for a brief moment. "Oh, dear…"
"I call that the Joezone layer," Vito jested, noticing Leon's reaction, "It's a combination of heavy cologne, sweaty crotch, and body odor. If you keep breathing it in, eventually you'll get used to it."
Joe laughed with pride. "My signature musk - if it smells like me, it belongs to me. No further questions."
He took off his bulky leather jacket and tossed it over the back of an armchair that sat diagonally from the sofa. He passed through the doors to the kitchen and began digging into a tall, rectangular crate with sealed doors. Leon stood close to it, feeling a cold temperature being released from inside.
"What is this?" Leon asked with curiosity.
"It's a refrigerator." Joe explained. "Keeps your food and beer cold. Everything lasts longer this way." He turned with two bottles in his hand, both of which had different labels. "Alright, Leon. Pick your poison; Maker's Mark Lite or Stallion Pilsner ?"
" Stallion of course," Leon quickly answered. "I like the name, and the picture."
"It's a little strong, but you look like you can take it." Joe popped the cap off and handed it over to Leon. "Beer tastes funny at first, so you'll have to drink fast if that bothers you."
"I've partaken in beer before." Leon reminded him. "I'm honestly surprised it is still a popular beverage, even nine-hundred years later. I wonder if it's any different than before."
"Drink it and find out." Joe smirked, opening his own beer, a Maker's Mark Classic . "This is from my secret stash, no one's allowed to touch it. Cheers."
Joe raised his beer to toast, Leon immediately returning the gesture. The glass bottles clinked together, echoing a celebratory sound.
"At least some things haven't changed." Leon sighed comfortably. "I was afraid I would have to learn thousands of different customs, only to fail miserably at it all. But it turns out, some small traditions carried over, even after many centuries have passed."
"Let's just say," Joe mentioned, "there are a lot of things that happened between your time and now. A lot of different things have been built, including entire fuckin' countries. The country's soil we're standin' on right now is called America ."
"I thought it was called Empire Bay?" Leon cocked his head.
Joe wheezed with laughter. "No, no, this is just a city on the east coast of the United States - I mean, America. You can call it both."
"United States?" Leon grew more confused. "How many states are there exactly?"
"Forty-eight," Joe answered, "all packed together nicely in one hunk of land. Each piece kind of has its own set of laws, but all while following a country-wide set of laws, too. It's a little fuckin' confusing, even I don't understand it. Vito would be able to explain it better. Speaking of Vito…"
Out of nowhere, Leon could hear a new sound coming from the living room. There was the initial static, like another radio signal, but moments later he could hear ambient, rhythmic noises lined in an energetic and expressive formation. Vito emerged into the kitchen. "I hope you don't mind the music."
"Music." Leon turned his head towards the sound, opening the kitchen door inquisitively. "How can we hear music with no instruments?"
A mysterious box stood in the middle of the room with a large metallic horn atop the item. There was a plate just below it, which held a spinning black disc with distinct grooves contouring its shape. A thin needle was positioned over the disc, which caused the horn to dispense these strange frequencies. The sound of people creating music, all captured into one object, able to be re-wound at any given moment during the day.
"This is incredible." Leon approached the object emitting the tunes. "Is this magic? I swear, this must be magic."
Joe and Vito glanced at each other, and laughed in amusement. "You have a lot to learn." Vito observed.
Leon was so captivated with the musical box, that he had forgotten about the defrosting beer grasped within his right hand. Joe stepped over and nudged him. "Don't let your drink get warm. You'll lose the bubbles."
"Oh, right!" Leon raised the bottle to his lips and tilted it back, allowing the familiar beverage to enter his esophagus. The crispy, bubbly sensation coated his throat and stomach. The duality of the cold beverage causing his body temperature to rise was a sensation Leon hadn't felt in a long time. He cherished this very brief moment of reprieve as the yeasty liquid made one word come to mind: home.
"Slow down there, slugger!" Joe started. "Don't get sick on your first one."
Leon forgot where he was for a moment, and took the bottle away from his mouth. "I had no idea how badly I needed this." He let a refreshing sigh escape his lips.
"A few more of those and you'll be set for the night." Joe suggested, most likely in an attempt to have Leon become drunk.
"He's probably a lightweight, Joe, we don't want him pissing from the balcony like you did a week ago." Vito reprimanded his friend.
"I can handle it," Leon boasted, "this simple festivity is no stranger to me." He proceeded to take another swig of his Stallion while staring Vito in the face with a mark of confidence.
" I can handle it ," Vito quoted, "is what most guys say right before spewing from their mouths and asses."
After consuming two more beers in under an hour, that distinct numbness began to creep across the vampire hunter's body. He found himself responding more to the comradery that his fellow peers were expressing, instead of shrinking within himself from the anxieties of constant change.
"Joe," Leon spoke out with a slight drop of comprehension in his tone, "is there a place here where I can… y'know…?" he gestured his hands around in a manner of which couldn't be explained. The two friends stared at him like he was insane.
"Where you can what ?" Joe furrowed his brow.
"I think he needs to use the bathroom." Vito noticed. "He just polished off three beers in under an hour."
"That, yes," Leon pointed to Vito excitedly, "that is exactly what I need! Thank you, Vito! Finally, someone -hic- understands me!" His words began slurring together as the alcohol started to work its way through his bloodstream. With one swift movement, he arose from the sofa. Instead of gaining composure on the first try, he began to teeter around, almost going off balance.
"Careful there," Joe held his arms out to catch his slightly buzzed friend, but pulled back when Leon regained his balance. "Bathroom's just over there by the door. Holler if you need help with anything."
Leon hobbled his way over to the designated bathing chamber, his track slightly curving. He entered the room, shutting the door behind him. The inside of the bathroom was something he had to get used to, and toy with to get the workings of. The first object he noticed was a dish fastened to the wall beneath a mirror, silver faucets lining the back.
"That must be where I can wash my face and hands…" he wondered aloud, his eyes meeting his reflection in the mirror. It had been a while since he'd seen his reflection in anything but a pool of water. Leon proceeded to touch his own face, pressing his palms into his cheeks to protrude his lips. He widened his eyes, stuck out his tongue, and contorted his face more to achieve even crazier facial expressions. After humoring himself, he gave an amused chuckle and turned to face the next mechanism.
To the right of the previous fixture, there was a long tub cemented to the floor against a tiled wall. "Obviously a tub." He looked up, and then noticed a spout coming from a higher location on the wall. "Water from above? Hm… how peculiar."
There was, of course, the receptacle for unmentionable functions. Leon took less than a minute to figure this one out with thorough outside inspection.
"Better than sitting on a bench with a hole…" He cringed in disgust at the previous ways he had to go about his business. "I wonder if most homes have these. I sure hope so."
He utilized every station in the bathroom, ending with the shower. Expecting an immediate rush of cold water to be released from the spout, this water came out surprisingly warm. His face grew with delight. "Am I in heaven right now?" He ran his hand through the rushing stream of hot water, but withdrew it to begin stripping clothes from his body.
Now in the nude, he stepped into the tub and beneath the rushing water. The thought of bathing on a regular basis seemed like such a distant, almost dreamlike concept. It appeared to be the norm in this era, and he was lucky to be able to experience this act. The typical feeling of being submerged in standing water was pleasant, but being able to cleanse oneself with a constant current felt utterly amazing. He shut his eyes, allowing the water to rush over his face, body, and through his partially curly hair. The comforts of a steaming shower and his own intoxication encompassed Leon to the point where he'd begun to release a series of low, sensual moans.
His new acquaintances sat in the living room, hearing the faint sounds of ecstasy coming through the bathroom door accompanied by an active shower. "This guy is something else." Vito shook his head, and proceeded to take another swig from his beer.
"At least he's enjoying himself." Joe shrugged. "Nine hundred years without a nice, hot shower is gonna bring the tension right out'a you."
"I don't think they had hot showers back then." Vito corrected. "He probably had to wash his ass in a river full of dick mites. You know, the ones that crawl up your piss-hole and eat you from the inside out."
"Jesus, what did the military do to you?" Joe gasped. "I'm glad we're able to help out the poor son of a bitch. After all, you did hit him with our car."
"Again, accident." Vito grew more impatient with each passing joke. "You're the one who wanted to stuff him in the fuckin' trunk."
"Fair point." Joe took another swig of beer. "What do you think Henry's deal was? One minute he was tearing us a new asshole, and when Leon comes out of the blue, he turns one-eighty and gets all friendly with him. Was never that way with us."
Vito shrugged and shook his head. "Who knows what Henry's got up his sleeve…" He tipped a glass bottle against his lips, taking in the musty yeast beverage.
"Notice how Leon completely made that shit up about himself in front of Henry without skipping a beat? We only gave him one word: tourist. And he just fuckin' ran with it." Joe seemed almost proud of his new friend's ability to fib.
"What if he was tellin' the truth?" Vito suggested. "What if he's one of those crazy assholes with double personalities? And for a moment, he pulled back the curtain, and he's just fucking with us because he's still pissed about the car?"
"No, he was definitely bullshitting." Joe claimed. "And Leon isn't that kind of guy. He's really cool! I think you just need to give him a fuckin' chance. You saw his face when he found out what year it was."
"Sure Joe." Vito doubtfully finished, and proceeded to finish off his most recent beer.
"What I can't believe," Joe continued, "was that he just walked up to Henry like that and started talking over him. I thought the son of a bitch was gonna turn around and murder all of us."
"I'll give it to Leon," Vito added, "he's got some balls."
After a few moments, the vocalizations of satisfaction had paused, even as the shower kept going. Joe kept silent to listen closer for a minute, and then placed his beer on the table before him, an expression of humor spreading across his features. "I think he just figured out another purpose for showers."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Vito creased his forehead.
"He's been quiet in there for five minutes." A look of perversion spread across his features.
Vito caught what Joe was suggesting. "Oh, that's nasty. You don't think he does that, do you? He seems so uptight."
"We all do it!" Joe laughed, but this time a lot harder than before. "A hot shower is the best place to fuck around with yourself."
"Jesus, Joe." Vito placed his head in his hands, but started laughing regardless. "You're the sickest son of a bitch I've ever met, you know that? A real fucking gigolo."
They heard the squeak of faucets turning, followed with a few more silent moments before Leon emerged from the bathroom fully clothed, steam gathered by his feet from the sodden bathroom floor. His blond, curled hair was damp, but still retained its volume and wild attitude. Leon traversed back into the living room to continue his night with the two other men, his pace still slightly crooked.
"You have fun there?" Vito teased, sitting back in the arm chair with a knowing look in his eyes.
"Whatever do you mean?" Leon glanced down at him.
"Oh, nothing." Vito averted his eyes. "Forget it."
Joe picked up the humor. "Vito here was tellin' me that some parts of you got scrubbed more than others." He couldn't get the sentence out without a wheezing laugh to break his stride.
Leon shook his head, and proceeded to turn around before letting the men see the flustered hue spread across his cheeks. Upon his entry to the kitchen, he could hear the two snickering raunchily. His hand met the next Stallion , and mimicked Joe's use of the bottle opener to gain access to the beer.
Cooling himself down with the beverage, Leon re-entered the living room with more poise this time. The pair's schoolboy laughter had died down to occasional silent chuckles, and eventually to silence. Leon found his place back on the sofa, hardly taking his lips from the glass bottle.
"In all seriousness," Vito back-tracked, "what was all that shit you were sayin' to Henry earlier? About you being a tourist from Europe, and trying to find your trouble-making friend? Was that all true?"
"Also, were you really adopted?" Joe nudged in. "I mean, no judgment if you are. Your parents loved you so much, they picked you."
"I never had parents." Leon plainly replied. "According to the clergy, I was found as an infant, both of my supposed parents dead in the wreckage. Evidently, a fire was what killed them. Other than that, yes. Everything else I had told Henry… was a lie."
"Which parts were the lie?" Joe wanted to clarify.
"The part about me being a tourist," Leon answered, "I gave your lie more growth . The 'friend' I spoke of is the sorcerous vampire who brought me here in the first place."
"Well, it's a good thing you worked with what we gave you," Joe added, "that'll keep Henry off your tail, and hopefully ours."
"For now." Vito finished. "Henry's gonna catch on eventually."
"Admittedly, I'm not proud of myself for that dialogue." Leon shrugged, "but it seemed to make sense in the moment; I didn't want to throw your case, as you two had already set your minds on me being a casual traveler."
"If anyone has a stronger bullshit detector than Joe and myself," Vito added, "it's fuckin' Henry."
"Quite honestly," Leon replied, "by observation, your acquaintance seems very trusting."
"That's actually the weird part," Vito mentioned, "Henry doesn't trust anyone. Actually, I think he hates everyone."
"He's a total fuckin' shut-in." Joe added. "Funny how he tried to invite you over to his place. Makes you wonder what he's got planned, y'know?"
"Hopefully his plans lie in helping me as originally intended," Leon glanced up with an anticipating look in his eye. "I won't set my sights too high. I don't suppose someone like Henry would know much about my cause. His help may be very limited."
"I can't even guarantee you that he'll help," Vito shook his head. "He's just a weird… weird fuckin' guy."
Joe lifted his hand to keep Vito from going off track. "All three of us will help you out, bud." It was too late, however, as Leon had caught the doubting frown on Vito's features when he spoke of his mentor.
"Is Henry a bad person?" Leon outwardly asked. "I mean, I heard the way he spoke to you before I made my presence known. He came off as aggressive and domineering. I don't see how someone can talk to you like that and still be considered a friend and mentor."
Vito and Joe exchanged glances again, not wanting to blow theirs' or Henry's cover. If they had told him the reason Henry was so wound up during that interaction, they would risk having to explain the illegal happenstances leading up to the accident.
Vito answered, "Henry's usually even-tempered, but when we told him what happened with you, he couldn't believe what we'd done. He was mostly disappointed with me, since I'm usually the one who drives. He expected me pay more fuckin' attention, but… shit happens, you know?"
"That's a solid philosophy," Leon agreed, "although, could be spoken with a little more diplomacy."
"Henry's not a bad guy once you get to know him," Joe continued, "in fact, we've had our share of fun times with the guy. Sometimes he has a stick up his ass, and sometimes he's cool. We all have our moments."
"Right." Leon took a drink, and continued to ponder. "What's his occupation? I only ask, as he seems well off. I saw the bribe he offered just to keep your name away from the authorities."
Vito and Joe rubbed the back of their necks. "He's somewhat of a businessman." Vito continued to offer up information about his colleague. "Some kind of briefcase-carrying-around-type of job. Door-to-door sales throughout the neighborhood. Dressed to the nines Monday through Friday, you know, that sort of thing."
Leon wasn't familiar with the modern day definition of what working meant. He simply nodded at Vito in a bare attempt to understand what he was saying.
Joe spoke up next, "Henry was just looking out for us, that's all the money was about. Actually, it was really fuckin' big of you to turn down that bribe. At first, I thought you were fuckin' insane! I would have snatched the money right out of his pocket at that point."
"He does seem to keep a neat appearance." Leon noted, staring forward. "Very dark ensemble, too."
"Before you ask," Joe retorted, "he ain't no fuckin' vampire. If there's one thing you need to know about us Sicilians, we fuckin' love garlic and sunshine."
Leon chuckled. "The garlic scheme is a myth created by vampires themselves to trap humans into unnecessary battle. How can something as simple as garlic take out a powerful vampire? Obviously, it's too good to be true."
"Yeah Joe," Vito mocked his friend, "you fuckin' mook."
"However," Leon finished his explanation before Joe was able to shoot back at Vito, "sunshine is a true aversion of theirs."
"I was right!" Joe hollered in victor.
"You were only half right," Vito argued, "therefore, you're still half a fuckin' idiot."
"Joe," Leon assured his colleague, "there's always room to excel as a vampire hunter. I once knew nothing about the creatures of the night, until I was thrown into a situation where I needed to learn fast. You can browse my bestiary if you ask nicely."
"Unless the pages are covered in tits and asses," Joe put his hands up in polite decline, "then I ain't interested."
Leon swallowed his judgment. "Understandably so."
Vito took another swig from his beer bottle, grinning mischievously at Joe over the glass object. They exchanged humored looks, before glancing over to their pensive friend.
"I'm beginning to think," Leon continued, "I should tell Henry the truth about my life. I'll tell him about the vampires. I'll tell him about my greatest enemy's presence in this city. I'll tell him of my original era.
"Or," Vito advised, "he could react the same way we both did, and treat you like you're from the loony bin. Then you'd have to relive that awkward fuckin' encounter all over again. Do you really wanna do that?"
"He needs to know everything if he's going to help me." Leon crossed his arms. "This is serious. Full disclosure is necessary in my quest to regain control of my life once more."
"Better to get it over with now than have him find out later and hate your guts." Joe advised sarcastically.
"Would he really hate me?" Leon was suddenly worried.
"No way," Joe corrected himself, "sure, he might think you're a little nuts at first, but he'll come around and see that you're no longer bullshitting him."
"And what made you two decide to believe me?" Leon blinked between the two of them curiously, trying to detect any truer intent.
"Remember the aforementioned 'bullshit-detectors'?" Joe answered. "When you're around guys like us, you have to be able to tell when someone's trying to dick you around. That's just a means of survival. Being gullible can get you into a fuckton of trouble."
Vito looked to Joe knowingly, but Leon proceeded to nod with understanding. "If I had been born with that ability, it would have saved me much… much trouble." He continued to drink, shutting his eyes momentarily while Vito and Joe took on a guilty silence.
Once his bottle was empty, he placed it firmly on the table before him, and sighed with content. "I don't know about you two, but I think I'm ready to sleep."
"I think I should head out." Vito put his drink down and arose to his feet. He and Joe balled up their fists and bumped them together before patting one another on the back. The brotherhood between these two came off as genuine, despite their contrasting attitudes.
"Thanks for hangin', bud." Joe smiled. "Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out!"
Vito exposed his middle finger to Joe before promptly leaving. Joe stood with his back to Leon for a moment, and then turned around to collect the empty glass bottles clustered on the coffee table. Leon watched the man perform this basic task, and allowed the reeling sensation in his head to carry him away. He tilted his head back, shoulders relaxing, chest rising and lowering with calm, deep breaths. In an instant, his vision blackened with fatigue, and his lips parted slightly to allow a slumbering breath to pass through.
"Damn," Joe muttered to himself, "I guess I'm keeping the party going by myself, then."
Not too long into the night, as the moon was at its highest and the city at its most quiet, Leon awoke with an off feeling. Even in his deepest levels of slumber, he could hear the sound of his area being compromised, and the presence of a different sort. He fought to open his eyes, his body squirming about before doing so.
His eyes met the darkened inside of Joe's apartment, albeit the street lights could be seen from outside his window. A juxtaposition of noise entered the room where there should have been silence. Leon reached towards the floor from the couch where his hand met the Vampire Killer. If evil had entered the domain, then he would be the first to vanquish it.
Slowly rising from the cushions to his feet, he looked around, and saw a strip of light beneath the kitchen door. Behind this door, he could hear Joe talking in a husky tone, presumably to the other person in the room. Leon listened closer, and could only hear the faint giggle of a woman.
The hunter was taken aback by this unfamiliar voice, and froze in his current position in the middle of Joe's bedroom. Suddenly, the doorknob began to turn, prompting Leon to turn a corner and hide behind a wall that barely concealed his appearance.
Peaking around the wall, he saw Joe ushering a woman in lingerie to his wide bed. Joe in only his underwear shamelessly crawled onto the mattress with this mysterious stranger. Leon looked away when he saw the two begin touching one another, and cringed when the sound of aroused laughter could be heard from the two. Before he could hear more obscene actions occur, Leon carefully and quietly tiptoed out of Joe's living room and towards the front door, where he would exit into the night.
Upon leaving the apartment complex, Leon ventured through the streets, continuously reading the small slip of paper Henry had given him prior to that evening. Whoever walked the streets that night were met with Leon asking them for directions. Some people shrugged, some people told him to "fuck off", and at one point a man in a disheveled suit almost regurgitated a mixture of different alcohols onto him. Luckily there were the few individuals who graciously helped Leon find his way.
Once again, this proved to Leon just how little humans have changed through the centuries; dismissive strangers, clueless bystanders, drunken imbeciles, and courteous citizens. A fine mixture of a modern society.
It took a good hour to get to where he needed to be, but eventually made it onto the spacious parking lot of a towering Empire Arms Hotel. His head tilted back to meet the ever-expansive hotel complex. All of the windows were sealed with darkness, except for one - it appeared to be on the ninth level from the bottom. The window was the only one lit up, at least on the side of the building that faced the parking lot. Staring for a prolonged amount of time, Leon could see a human-like figure standing in the window.
"What are you doing up so late, Henry?" Leon asked aloud in a barely audible voice, "then again, what am I doing up so late?"
Leon peaked at the card again, confirming the location before heading towards the doors. He stopped at the entrance just a few feet away to eye the strange set of revolving doors separating the outdoors from the hotel lobby. Staring at the doors for a moment, trying to contemplate his entrance, he jumped back at the sudden appearance of a man walking through said doors. It took him not long to notice the precise movement executed by this unknown individual, who gave Leon an uncomfortable stare before walking towards the parking lot. The hunter bolted inside before the doors completely stopped rotating, and stood inside the spacious, gold-lit room.
Leon stared around, taking in the sight of these elaborate light fixtures. He got caught in the sight until the receptionist cleared her throat. He looked her way as her eyes peered at him above her bifocals. She was an older woman, her silver hair curled atop her head, bifocals connected to the rest of her via pearled chain. The hunter sheepishly approached her, clearing his throat in return to make sure her attention was still drawn.
"Excuse me," he began, his voice lowered with uncertainty, "where can I find…" he looked at the card again, "room nine-thirteen?"
The woman tilted her head back, the judgment in her eyes increasing as she eyed Leon up and down. Her lipstick-coated lips curled into a small grin before she stood up to point towards a series of metallic elevator doors.
"The floors are listed on each of the buttons," she instructed, "push the one you want to go to. The even numbers are on the right side of the hallway, odd numbers on the left."
Leon glanced at the doors, and then back to the receptionist. "Thank you. I appreciate your help."
"You're welcome, hon." the receptionist sat back down, her eyes still fixed on Leon, even as he walked away from her desk towards the elevator doors.
Once the hunter stood before these doors, he looked around for a moment for a way to activate them. Call buttons were visible between the different doors, and Leon pressed the one closest to the doors he stood in front of. He could hear the hum of a mechanical pulley system before the elevator doors slid open, accompanied by a small ding . Leon hesitantly stepped inside the small containment and was able to easily find the switchboard. His eyes traveled up the different letters and numbers before he eventually found the number nine. Pressing it quickly, Leon stood still as the doors slid shut before him.
The system whirred once more, and Leon could feel the slight gravitational difference press down upon him as the chamber ascended. There was a brief wait time before the doors opened again, revealing an expansive hallway. Leon peaked his head out and looked around before stepping onto the carpeted area. With his sights set forward, he traveled down the hallway while trying to maintain a confident strut. Looking to the left and right of himself, he read each number to himself.
"Nine-ten," he murmured, "nine-eleven, nine-twelve… here we go." And there it was, Henry's hotel room, right behind a plain door with the label '913.'
Leon raised his fist to the door, but paused before he could bring his knuckles to the surface. He bit his bottom lip, and for some reason, a force was pulling him back from being able to knock on the door. Waves of doubt washed over the hunter as he contemplated whether or not to knock. He wondered if this was the right place to be, and remembered Vito's reaction when speaking of Henry. Joe made it apparent that he vouched for his mentor, but his calmer counterpart had his reserves.
The vampire hunter remembered his ultimate betrayal, and immediately became squeamish by the idea of asking Henry for help. What if this man did the same thing? What if he lifted him up to great heights only to drop him into a deeper pit than before?
Leon's fear took the better of him, as his hand dropped to his side. He turned on his heel and started walking towards the elevator, a look of dejection smeared across his features. The only other option was to head back to Joe's with the hope that he and his mistress finished having sex.
It was then, with his back turned, that the door to room nine-thirteen opened up. Leon froze in his tracks, the elevator being too far away to make his retreat. The presence behind him grew, leaving the hunter's blood to become cold.
"Tired of Joe already?" Henry could be heard smirking through his dialogue. Leon turned around slowly to meet his gaze with the older gentleman's.
"He decided to have last-minute company," Leon lowered his head, "I didn't want to be rude, so I left."
Henry rolled his eyes. "Typical fucking Joe. Sorry you had to see, or hear, whatever he was doin' with that woman."
"I escaped before I witnessed the worst of it." Leon shrugged, sliding his hands into his jacket pockets. His eyes were averted to the side.
Henry tried to follow his gaze, but instead kept his sights set on the hunter. "You know, I was about to go get a drink, actually."
"This late?" Leon glanced back at him in surprise. "Is that why you're still fully clothed?"
Henry didn't want to admit that he was expecting Leon's presence, and that he wanted to keep his polished appearance in the event he arrived. The mobster nodded, and gave a small grin. He held up his car keys, and ushered for Leon to follow him into the elevator at the end of the hall.
The two entered, Leon with his gaze fixed on his blurred reflection in the stainless steel elevator doors. Henry tried to make eye contact with him, but the hunter was relentless in not allowing the other to stare into his soul, thus revealing his secrets and insecurities.
"It won't be the Maltese this time," Henry began, "I know a quieter place with less cigarette smoke."
Leon gave a brief smile before returning his gaze back to the doors. His eyes travelled upwards to meet a small screen with an ever-decreasing number. The number turned into the letter "G" before opening, allowing Henry and Leon to exit into the lobby with ease.
The receptionist from before peered over her bifocals once more, to which Leon returned that stare with a friendly smile. Henry, however, didn't even acknowledge her presence.
Leon began questioning Henry's intentions at this point, wondering why he acted such a way around Vito and Joe, but changed when he came around. The angry businessman from hours before had suddenly turned into a suave nighttime companion, offering his company and hospitality without a second thought.
Keeping in mind what Vito told him, he entered the passenger side of Henry's vehicle, keeping his eyes fixed to the sights out the window as he felt the car make its way out of the parking lot.