Bloodl.u.s.t

"Ummm excuse me?" I try to sound as polite and professional as I can under the current circ.u.mstances but I receive no response. Walking the length of the bar counter I stop right on the other side where the guy is sitting on the stool. Placing both of my hands on the glass counter beneath, I lightly tap my freshly manicured nails upon it hoping that would help him acknowledge my presence. He shifts in his seat and his hazel eyes lift upwards to wander over my curvy figure and then rising a little more finally hold my gaze.

Just because I do certain things sometimes, it doesn't always mean I know what I am doing. Like now, there's a drunk stranger and by drunk I mean i-am-on-my-8th-alcohol-drink drunk person sitting in front of me staring into my ocean blue eyes for 30 seconds straight and what do I do? Yes, raise one of my high-arched eyebrow.

Oh if he had to be maybe in his forties like the customers we have in the bar I wouldn't have done it. But this one is young, a year or two older than me. I tend to feel a little nervous around the people of the opposite s.e.x belonging to my age group. Okay his good looks don't help either. Even though he's heavily intoxicated. Or should be if I had counted the amount of drinks he'd consumed correctly.

He looks sober just like he did when he had entered the bar about 3 hours ago. Even with the commotion and crowd that was present earlier, he'd stood out. My eyes had never left him the whole time, also something I couldn't fathom why. But I wasn't the only one who was looking at him nah! He was staring right back the whole time as well! Now there is no-one except for us two with the company of the cold, silent December winds blowing in occasionally through the entrance. All it reminds me is of the horrendous event I got the opportunity to be a part of this morning.

Caleb.

I feel a painful tug in my c.h.e.s.t and the scene replays wholly for the hundredth time all while I'm still looking into the beautiful hazel eyes. The stranger realising that I'd been transported elsewhere, somewhere far away from my little hometown Orion Valley, gives a derisive snort and focusses on his half-filled glass.

I snap back to reality at his action. All that happened this morning was real as well, a small voice in the back of my mind says but I refuse to believe. I just cant. Not now. Not unless Leah is in hugging distance so I can cry the night away in my best-friends arms.

"Excuse me, Sir?" I cringe at the way I say sir. In my two years of employment in Malcolm's DEN one thing I'd failed to learn was how to sound and behave like a professional. "You can come tomorrow to have more drinks or you can always buy and take home whatever you'd like." I am not usually like this, of course my patience level is always low but today is a different case.

Caleb.

Shaking my head, I focus on the man who's testing my patience on a day he shouldn't. I wait ...3... no movement ... 2 ... *clear my throat* ... 1 ''Sir?'' ... 0 ... ''Hey?'' ... -1... -2...

Wait why am I counting negative numbers?!

Groaning I move towards the corner of the room where my cell phone and purse are kept, picking them up I stroll back towards the annoying stranger and slam my fist on the glass abruptly.

No the glass doesn't break but I'm not so sure about my carpals.

"That's enough, dude! My shift here is over and you need to drag your a.s.s out of this shop right now or I'll be one who throws you out!" I speak, my voice is coated with anger and frustration. He drops his gaze to the glass and probably wonder whether he should walk out quietly or should give me a chance to kick his b.u.t.t out.