The blush couldn’t escape Andreas’ perceptive gaze.  He’d at least caught some interest, though it seemed to be pushed aside in the next breath.  Vain as the assassin was, he actually had to rationalize that it wasn’t his looks that were responsible.  Sure, Alex was one fine piece of work, but the man was used to serving the regular crowd.  A good look around in the tiny space between his words and Alex’s reassured him of that.  Not that the crowd was unfortunate in the face, but they were the typical mix of average features with the occasional exception.  Like himself.<br/><br/>He was trying to listen to the options, but the way those fingers caught baby fine hairs and curled them back behind an ear brought more attention to the lines of a long, slender neck.  The V of the tight shirt beckoned his gaze to keep going lower, but Andreas was somehow able to stop himself.<br/><br/>“I can do fruity,” he said.<i>Not the usual way</i>probably meant that it was a personal concoction, and it was a possible way into further the conversation.  It was just a good thing he had a wide variety of drinks he liked, from the fruity and sweet to straight whiskey.  “Sign me up for blue raspberry.”