“Another Bloody Mary from the excellent bartender maybe? He’s awfully good for such an awful club.” Can I buy you a drink?” He glanced at the half-full glass before Tristan and jerk his double chin at the bar. “The music’s a bit loud and tonight’s more crowded than usual. “Just slightly bored and growing increasingly overwhelmed the longer I stay here. “I’m fine,” Tristan replied, looking the man in the eye, briefly engrossed in the minute enlargement of his pupils. The thought inadvertently sent a pang to his chest. Bedi had said that made him look more inviting and less indifferent, and who was he to doubt Bedi’s words of wisdom? “No,” Tristan said, tilting his head at a small angle so that his eyelashes caught the light and cast faint shadows on his high cheekbones. He found the man at the bar separated from him only by a single table, the Martini glass comically small in his big hand. Tristan’s hand ceased its absent-minded motion and he lifted his gaze from the swirling red in his glass, wearing a perfect mask of mild surprise. Modern people and their weird, ingenious, ever-creative mind. The meat straw came as an added bonus, a “munchie” to accompany the spiciness of Worcestershire sauce, as the flushed-faced waitress had helpfully informed him upon handing him his order. He had picked the drink solely because of its color – an illusion was better than nothing at all. Tristan’s gaze followed his movement and his lips curled into a half-smile as he stirred his straw and took a sip.īloody Mary. The man at the bar finally peeled his behind off the uncomfortable-looking elevated chair and weaved through the colorful crowd to reach this lone table. Tristan met a man at some club and decided to bring him home for Bedivere. Warnings: slight OOC, some Tristan/OC, implied violence, the consumption of human flesh Disclaimer: Characters belong to their respectful owners
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