He smiled as he peered into his drink, a pleasant warm sensation filling his head. He never drank. "No offense taken. You are right, in the main." Mostly. No one ever called him brash. It wasn't his nature.
Though the way his head swung to her at her words was certainly not measured, his eyes wide, voice intense. It seemed fate was intervening. Again. Ana and now her. "You work at the guardian? Sòng. @"Daiyu" Sòng. A cousin of a cousin. She is being held and I've not been able to see her or find out why or how to get her discharged. Do you know her?"
Unease at the divine manifestation warred with excitement and he shifted his body slightly away from her to hide what had formed. He took her in again. Could she be another chance? Was she like Ana in that respect? Certainly not in temperament. Ana was brash in every sense of the word, fearless and uninhibited. He firmed harder at the thought and his pulse quickened as he remembered.
Her question seemed to get to the point and he tried to quash the excitement that tried to take control of him, unaware that his eyes were dilated and his nostrils flared. He relaxed, hoping his physical interest was not noticeable. Desperation was no way to elicit a response. But inside he howled, a trapped beast rattling the cage of its imprisonment, hungering and thirsting for its prey. It was not her it craved.
Voice intense, eyes focused, he answered. "Look around. You are right. This is the center of the world, now. Men and women walk the earth who can touch the power of God. They are most concentrated here. Why wouldn't God be here too?"
He knew it sounded foolish. It wasn't that these individuals actually had some sort of pipeline to the universe. But something was going on here. Clearly. Channelers walked the streets. An ancient organization. He knew he need to track down some of them. And Ana. With whom he had felt the divine, for the first time in his 39 years. When he finally had proof that he wasn't the only truly real being in existence.
He stopped himself, an unfamiliar discomfort. It wasn't his way to be enthusiastic. The vodka had gotten to him it seemed. She filled his vision, her neck seeming to glow like polished wood, warm and inviting and his hands itched to reach out, trace her collarbone, to feel the hollow, to feel it between his fingers. He carefully crossed his ankles, dropping hand to his lap, not wanting to give himself away.
He needed to change the subject. Or return the one, rather. Daiyu. 'What do at the Guardian?"
Though the way his head swung to her at her words was certainly not measured, his eyes wide, voice intense. It seemed fate was intervening. Again. Ana and now her. "You work at the guardian? Sòng. @"Daiyu" Sòng. A cousin of a cousin. She is being held and I've not been able to see her or find out why or how to get her discharged. Do you know her?"
Unease at the divine manifestation warred with excitement and he shifted his body slightly away from her to hide what had formed. He took her in again. Could she be another chance? Was she like Ana in that respect? Certainly not in temperament. Ana was brash in every sense of the word, fearless and uninhibited. He firmed harder at the thought and his pulse quickened as he remembered.
Her question seemed to get to the point and he tried to quash the excitement that tried to take control of him, unaware that his eyes were dilated and his nostrils flared. He relaxed, hoping his physical interest was not noticeable. Desperation was no way to elicit a response. But inside he howled, a trapped beast rattling the cage of its imprisonment, hungering and thirsting for its prey. It was not her it craved.
Voice intense, eyes focused, he answered. "Look around. You are right. This is the center of the world, now. Men and women walk the earth who can touch the power of God. They are most concentrated here. Why wouldn't God be here too?"
He knew it sounded foolish. It wasn't that these individuals actually had some sort of pipeline to the universe. But something was going on here. Clearly. Channelers walked the streets. An ancient organization. He knew he need to track down some of them. And Ana. With whom he had felt the divine, for the first time in his 39 years. When he finally had proof that he wasn't the only truly real being in existence.
He stopped himself, an unfamiliar discomfort. It wasn't his way to be enthusiastic. The vodka had gotten to him it seemed. She filled his vision, her neck seeming to glow like polished wood, warm and inviting and his hands itched to reach out, trace her collarbone, to feel the hollow, to feel it between his fingers. He carefully crossed his ankles, dropping hand to his lap, not wanting to give himself away.
He needed to change the subject. Or return the one, rather. Daiyu. 'What do at the Guardian?"