<div class="floatleft">(http://img.poptower.com/pic-89524/james-carpinello.jpg?d=600)</div>It might have been something she said. He wracked his mind trying to recall if it was, but she hadn't said all that much. No, maybe it was her eyes, the way that they flashed in his direction that had caught his attention. He always needed her to be interested first, see? He fed off of her interest, so to speak, thus spawning and interest of his own, and increasing his magnetism. It was why he liked working at the bar. He was good looking, dark hair and skin, with blue eyes. Something to do with his ancestry. His glare was intense, arousing for wsome women, his body was that lean sort of muscular that had masculinity all over it. But what attracted them the most... well, he couldn't really explain it. Something electric in the air around him. Maybe it was his scent. Maybe it was being close to him that raised a woman's hackles so much. In the good way of course.<br/><br/>ANd he always liked this little game with himself. She had left with her friend, but from the way that they were looking at the other men in the bar, it was fairly obvious that, if they were together... as in, sexual partners, they were open to a male's intjecting here or there. Which explained the mutual interest, he supposed. He kept on serving drinks, mixing them, talking to the various patrons, but he had picked his girl for the night. Her slime, her gentle sweetness had him guessing, in a tasteful sort of way. It was her looks as well, he realized. Quite frankly, she was hot. He didn't know how to explain it very well, if he ever had to.<br/><br/>Of course, the reason why he wasn't good at explaining was that he never had to. Things got tricky if he needed to explain, and he disliked tricky situations.<br/><br/>The night seemed to flow around him, him just going throught the motions that his body knew were what he had to do, but his mind was elsewhere. Off with that girl. Cait was her name, he knew this. Eventually, as the light started to go around, the crowds began to thin, as if in reverance to the next crowd coming in later, his shift was over. Marko stretched, rolled his neck, took off his work clothes, climbed into his day clothes. It was a quick process, one that he had managed to repeat for a long time. No, he didn't need any rides, thanks. He had his own bike.<br/><br/>But he didn't take the bike.<br/><br/>He started out on foot, putting one leg in front of the other, not quickly, but not at a leisurely pace either. It was as if he was heading somewhere, not mindlessly wandering, but not heading there in a hurry. His hands in his coat pockets, he went on his way, which was, ironically, Cait's way, only an hour or so ago.<br/><br/>Hmmm there was something about this building too. Maybe it's residue reflected on her, which was why he was so drawn to it. There was something positively... exciting about it. It wasn't the place's looks, by any means. Just... something. He moved into the sho;p. The sign said open, at around 7:30. He opened the door and stepped inside. Ah... there it was.<br/><br/>"Amybody home?"