ok, ya know what? i got tired of waiting for one measily review, and now i'm just posting this. whatever...
Smiling Shyly
chapter-ified re-write
II.
Even though you only got home at 4, you still rise with the sun to begin your human life. You may not like it, but it's necessary. And your job keeps a steady stream of prey flooding, being the singer of a band eternally featured at a second-rate club.
But you don't start till tonight, so you venture out for the day, scouting possible prey for a post-performance meal - and secretly hoping you'll see the blonde man from before.
You eventually stumble upon an outdoor café, and there you see him. He's having lunch with an older woman (your jaw and fists clench in jealousy) who is exclaiming over a fat stack of papers. He is looking on, occasionally saying something but otherwise staring off into space behind her head.
But soon she rises, bowing politely before leaving him to finish his lunch. You wait a bit, watching intently as he idly sips his coffee, looking bored. Then you approach, taking the woman's empty seat and lounging on it like you always eat lunch with him. His otherwise impassive eyes widen a bit when he sees you, and it's gone in a flash - but not before you saw it.
He glares at your shyly smiling face, telling you to get lost. Your stomach flutters at his harshness.
"Do you remember me?" you ask him.
He continues to glare, answering no. But you saw the spark when he saw you.
"You do," you accuse, "you just don't want to." You lean forward, continuing. "You're afraid of what I'll do to you now that I've gotten a taste of you. And I know you enjoyed it." You purr the last bit.
He shrinks back, a disgusted look marring his beautiful features. You lean back again, lips twisted into an amused smirk.
"I've got a gig tonight," you say. "Why don't you come? We can have some fun afterwards." You hand him a business card with the club's location.
You don't want to leave him, but you need to. You need to get some sleep before you have to be at work. You stand, stretching cat-like. Your shirt rides up, and you catch the appreciative glance he throws you. Just that tells you he'll come, no matter what he says.
You say goodbye, leaving him to deal with his conflicting emotions. You need your sleep, or your band mates will never forgive you.