When he entered the lounge, he sat across from her at a table, smiling warmly. The expression was almost painful. It was completely foreign to him. Not only did it hurt, but it put a rancid taste in his mouth. Pleasantries were a part of humanity that he'd never missed after he'd died, and begun his second life. He thought of himself as a natural Vampire. He'd been a terrible human. The life of a Vampire suited him far better.<br/><br/>He held out a hand across the table, silently requesting hers. As he examined her, he focused on a very slight hint of the influence most of his kind termed Glamour. It was just a polite way of mentioning mind control. The problem was, that unless it was done carefully, by an expert, as soon as the glamour was removed, the mortal would become aware that it had been done. They wouldn't necessarily understand it, but they'd know that something had FORCED them to do and say and think those things. So he had to be careful. It was lucky he was the best with glamour that he'd ever met. No one could match the finesse and skill with which he planted thoughts in his victims' minds.<br/><br/>Gazing at her over the table, he attempted to lock his gaze onto hers. He would start with something subtle. The trick was to take baby steps. Instead of planting an actual thought, he would simply nudge the thoughts that were already there, thus leading her to believe she'd come up with the notion on her own. It was a game he loved to play above all others... other than feeding.<br/><br/>Hers was a classic story, and he would manipulate it to the fullest extent. She thought he was her father, and had wanted him to be so desperately that she'd run away from home and come straight to New York. She had practically begged him to take advantage of his vulnerability. How could he in good conscience refuse her plea?<br/><br/>His influence upon her mind was slow... gentle... infinitely soft. He simply began to take hold of her loneliness and pull it to the forefront of her emotions. He wanted her to feel alone, scared, and dependent on him. It wouldn't be hard to accomplish this. If she was dependent on him to keep her safe, to cure her loneliness, she would trust him without his having to prove to her that he could, in fact, be trusted.<br/><br/>It was a perfect plan.<br/><br/>As he sat before her, he paused only a moment, a heartbeat. To her eyes, the slow, mundane perception of a mortal, his pause would not be noticed. He spoke to her in a rich, warm, honeyed tone, his eyes shining with kindness he did not feel.<br/><br/>"My darling... Look at the woman you have become! I hardly know you... you've grown so much. And yet..." he pretended to consider her thoughtfully, "I can still see the beautiful child I loved so much, when I look in your eyes. How I have wished for this chance. I cannot begin to tell you how desperately I have ached to go back in time and right the wrong I did you. You needn't have gone through the life of isolation that you did. Can you ever forgive me for hurting you so?"<br/><br/>He continued to hold his hand out for her, waiting for her to place it in his. He knew that with skin contact, the influence of his glamour would be increased ten-fold.