Pulling his keys, he stuck his finger through the carabiner and used it to flick the keys, looping them around his finger, to catch them in his palm over and over. It was a habitual motion of his, one that he was no longer even aware of doing most of the time. When he heard footsteps behind him, he ignored them until he heard a voice. Even before turning, he felt his pulse rise. There was something about that voice.<br/><br/>When he turned, and saw it was her, the woman from the bar, everything around him stopped. It was her. The one. He gaped for a half second, overcome with both confusion and a sudden, unexpected rush of need. Gulping, he held on to his sanity with effort.<br/><br/>"Of course.... I... I don't mind. Where are you headed?" his voice was rough, low, throaty, even to his own ears. Gulping, he tried to get ahold of himself.