Haarlem, Netherlands, Teyler Museum, April 2011.
He sat at the cafe table, the daylight inching away from the table, slipping out the door. It had places to go. So did he. A flutter of anticipation and fear in his gut, he longed for the bite. The brief snap of pain as teeth broke skin, the pull of his blood. A lick of the tongue on blood tinted lips, a smile, a flush in the cheeks, both mortal and immortal. 
"You’ve been working too long again." A flash of sharp teeth.
"I know. I know. Deadlines. How can you tell?"
"You taste like espresso." 

Haarlem, Netherlands, Teyler Museum, April 2011.

He sat at the cafe table, the daylight inching away from the table, slipping out the door. It had places to go. So did he. A flutter of anticipation and fear in his gut, he longed for the bite. The brief snap of pain as teeth broke skin, the pull of his blood. A lick of the tongue on blood tinted lips, a smile, a flush in the cheeks, both mortal and immortal. 

"You’ve been working too long again." A flash of sharp teeth.

"I know. I know. Deadlines. How can you tell?"

"You taste like espresso."