The Vampire's chosen mate (Completed)

Bartender (11)

AN: Reminder to please vote for this chapter before you go ahead to read

XXXXXX

Dimitri

Humans were interesting creatures. They all seemed put together in the greater scheme of things. But if one just looked a second longer at them, one would see that they were far from the term put together. Whereas we vampires embraced our beasts and sometimes even indulge in them, humans try to hide theirs. Thus they are at constant war with themselves. No wonder most of them are depressed. One has to be a peace within oneself. To accept and love oneself exactly as one is. How have they not mastered this task still?

Damien and I had been living at a Hotel for the past couple of days now. I was basically in every news article. Even in the human world, I was wanted. Luckily, the only photo there was of me when I was 20 years old. I was a kid back then so I look different. Hating publicity did finally pay off. But that still didn't mean that I was off the hook. Seneca had offered quite a large sum of money to whoever could bring me back alive to her. This woman wanted me so she could kill me herself. I don't blame her though. In every story I have read or been told of, if the antagonist doesn't kill off every single person in the family and leaves loose ends, then that very loose end becomes the reason that the antagonist dies in the end of the story.

"Well, if it is the strange Mr. Postman," a voice said. I had heard that voice before but couldn't pinpoint where exactly. I tilted my head up and saw the bartender. What was her name again? Beth, Barbra or something like that. Unfortunately as a Vampire you still retain the same brain capacity. And I was always a sucker for remembering people's names. The bartender was rather shorter than I imagined, standing in front of me right now. Well, I guess for a human female she was normal height

She had dark brownish-black curly hair that seemed to stretch out in all directions literally. I had not seen anything like it before. Her hair was marvelous and I really wanted to touch it. But then I realized how weird it would be to ask her that. I wasn't trying to stand out right now so I kept my mouth shut. "Hi there," I responded with an awkward wave after I realized that she was waiting for my response.

I then went on analyzing her since she again seemed to be figuring me out. She had a skin tone that resembled a cup of coffee with just a drop of milk. Her eyes were honey-brown and they looked so, cute as she stared at me in curiosity making her brows sort of knit together. For some reason, I felt like this girl's eyes were seeing right through me. I felt naked under her stare. Did she know who I really was? But she is human so there was no way. I'm just being paranoid.

"Well Mr. Postman, do you have a name?" she asked pulling me out of my spiral of thoughts. I had to admit that for a woman, she was rather direct. I never thought, I would meet a woman who was direct. The opposite sex always seemed to prefer playing, "figure it out." They would probably stare at you for a split second and expect you to deduce from that flash of eye contact that they like you.

Then this girl proceeded to take a seat right opposite me on my table. Don't you ask before sitting on someone else's table? I thought humans had manners, but clearly she didn't.

"James Rodrick," I responded. I didn't want to converse with her but she didn't seem to get the message. Can't a guy just sit alone in a coffee shop and sip his drink while contemplating his sad existence? So, I guess I had to one word answer her questions until she got the message and moved on. I mean yes, she was easy on the eye and all but she wasn't my type. I preferred blondes that is all. Although I have to admit that I do really love dark brown-blackish hair that goes in different directions as well apparently.

"James, the last time I saw you, you were staring at a letter for two hours straight and hadn't touched your drink at all. You then gave me a humongous tip and left as soon as I tried to make conversation with you. You had stiffened in your seat as soon as I said hi. I am no predator so relax. You have been eyeing the sugar on this table as through it's the most appealing thing you have ever seen. And I know I am not that hideous. So, I'm going to assume you are not a fan of eye contact. You keep tapping your left foot... and now you have stopped because I mentioned it." The bartender whose name starts with a B said. I had no idea how to respond to her observations so, I kept quiet instead.

So, she went on, "I think you haven't been around people in a while. Or wait... yes I got it! You are a shy nerd who has never spoken to a female before so this is nerve wrecking for you. Or, maybe you just never interacted with a black woman before. Yes, I see you staring at my hair like you've never seen an afro before," She said and playfully rolled her eyes.

First of all this human was perceptive, I would give her that. Also how did she know that I was tapping my foot? She didn't look under the table at all. I still really wanted to touch her hair though.

Maybe, it is time I made a human friend. After all it didn't look like she was planning to leave anytime soon.

AN

QOC: What do you think of Humans embracing their beasts?

do share with me your thoughts on this chapter. 

Before you move on I hope you have voted on this chapter