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Lenore stopped, his plea ringing through her ears like a bell. Right, she rummaged through her bag, slightly eager to give her number to him. Lenore wanted to see him again, definitely. When she wasn't hungry. When she wasn't desperate, or hunting. She took out a pen and a receipt from the convenience store, to which she bought herself a bottle of water and some gum two weeks ago, and wrote her phone number. She handed Adam the small piece of paper, despite her desire to stay with him. To talk and touch him, to bite and drink from him. She didn't know what she would do, especially because she was hungry, and decided that this decision was best. "I'm sorry," she murmured, though it was more to herself than for Adam. "Call me then," she added, tinged with awkwardness and a spring of hope that he would. She gave a small wave and left the night club quickly.

Tonight, well, was unlike herself. She gave a wistful breath, one huge breath to regain herself before walking down the sidewalk. Was Adam a dream? She wished she could tell her girl friends what happened, but she laughed a little at herself. She had only few friends, and none of them were female. She sighed, running a hand through her dark hair, looking up at the sky. It was past midnight, but the night was still young.
Lenore was cautious, not wanting what happened at the tavern to happen this time. She glanced behind herself, and listened intently for any signs, but disappointed herself when she found that she was really alone. Lenore walked a little faster, in the direction of her apartment.

Her hunger screamed. It cursed her, cursed her for not drinking Adam's delicious blood when he was right there in front of her. So close was she to drinking it, all she had to do was bite. Lenore held her head, feeling a bit lightheaded. Whenever she had gotten this hungry, she always felt a bit sick. Lenore decided to just pick up a drunk on their way home. It didn't matter if they weren't attractive or whatever, because all Lenore had on her mind was Adam.

The hotel was cheap enough. It wasn't like Lenore had paid for it, since the guy, in his stupor, insisted on it. He stumbled down the hall, obviously drunk. Lenore had to drag him the rest of the way, taking an empty elevator so that she could save her embarrassment. Once in front of the room, Lenore leaned the guy on the wall so she could swipe the card. He fell on her with a grunt, Lenore catching him with ease. She dragged him into the room, a little agitated. She'd have to make due with this. And while she never really did like to drink from a drunk, because their blood was thinner and they always tasted a little weird, Lenore was hungry. She was sure that once the guy was on the bed and passed out, she couldn't resist. Adam still lingered in her head, but she decided not to think about him now. Not when she was unbuttoning the man's shirt.

He was about 30 or so. Not too meaty, but he wasn't too handsome. He, upon climbing into bed, passed out. Lenore sighed, hopping off the bed to the door, locking it with a soft click. She herself didn't want to see her drink from this man, especially after meeting Adam, but her hunger had settled on the passed out drunk. Lenore sighed, looking at him now, dubious to what she was.

"Right, dad. He's very nice," Lenore murmured, nodding in a sort of annoyed motion. She paced about her tiny apartment, cluttered with books and papers, and tacky and useless knick knacks. It was darkened with newly bought heavy drapes to block out that toxic sun. Lenore slept during the day and woke back up in the early evening. She had adopted this sleeping routine only a few weeks ago, and didn't mind it too much other than the problematic trouble about going to class. Most of her classes were in the middle of the day, to which Lenore knew was extremely difficult. She decided to reschedule her classes, she had to, to a later time. Lenore sat on her comfy couch, hugging a cushioned pillow as she listening to her father's earnestness to hear about her new 'boyfriend'. Lenore tilted her head back, looking at the ceiling. "I'm so happy. I want to meet him," her father replied, followed by a couple clinks in the background. Lenore deducted that they were pans, and that her father was in the middle of dinner.
"He's, umm, not ready yet, dad. Give it some time. Look, I'll come for dinner sometime, so no need to worry, alright?"

"Ah, alright, but a man needs to meet his girlfriend's father for approval eventually, y'know?" He paused and laughed a little. "Alright, Lenny, alright. Though, I do worry about you, ever since Caro-"

"Stop," Lenore interrupted. There was only one thing she disliked about her father, and it was when he mentioned her mother. Whatever he said, it was always tinged with sadness, guilt, regret, and pity, all of which Lenore hated.

"Ah, sorry," this being a normal thing about their conversations. He often had to catch himself a lot of the time. "But I know you're busy, so I let you go. I love you," he admitted, though it sounded kind've lonely.
Lenore looked to the floor, and didn't say anything for a moment. "I love you," she said quietly and hung up.
If there was one thing about her father, it was that he wasn't visited by his daughter as much as he liked. And while Lenore would've liked to visit him, she only saw him as a parent, and not much of a father. She tilted her head, hugging her leg. It was fairly early, though dark enough outside to be safe for her skin. Lenore got up, going to her room to get dressed in proper clothes.

She had a gig today at a small hole-in-the-wall for an hour. A former employer recommended her to the owner of it, and she was hired to play a couple nights this week. As long as Lenore had work, she was content. She picked up a case near the door and grabbed her purse in the other hand, shouldering it before leaving her small haven of darkness. With the lock of the key, she was off.
People still hung about the streets, clinging to the sidewalks. She crossed it, going down a block before turning into a small side street. It was quaint, and secluded. Locals relaxed about, regulars to the shops and nooks of the small street. She entered a small restaurant, which greeted her with welcome. Lenore was all smiles, seeking to impress and sat in a small corner to play a few charming songs on her guitar. They weren't difficult or intricate, but they were dashing and simple. She played a little over an hour before taking a small break. She was offered a cup of water, to which she gladly accepted.

The ring of her phone piqued her interest. She bent to the floor, digging through her bag before finding her phone. The number was unknown to her, and she did not recognize. And then Adam came to mind. She had thought about him all day, from the moment she woke up. With this thought in mind, she answered the phone with no hesitation. "Hello?"

Lenore leaned against the wall behind her, watching as an elderly couple left the restaurant with a pleasant smile on their faces. Lenore found herself mirroring the same expression, and while her face usually held some sort of neutral expression, it held an unusual warmth. She cleared her throat, changing her gaze to watch the waiter serve a woman in a hat.
"Ah, umm, hmm," she mumbled, not knowing what to say. Of course she remembered him. And of course Lenore wanted to see him again. She looked down at her shoes. They didn't hurt as much as when she first got them, and at the cost of wearing these cute shoes, she didn't mind it. Pain was the only thing that really reminded her that she still had some part of human in her. It relieved her to think that, because she didn't want to think of herself as a monster.

She looked up, and nodded, despite Adam being unable to see her. "Yes. I would really like that," she admitted, playing with her sweater.

Lenore turned her head, gazing out the window where lights flickered against the night. The chatter of people was a slight hum, the alley known only by regulars quite popular among locals. Lenore was still working, the owner of the shop glancing to the young musician with curiosity. Lenore felt her gaze, knowing she had to go back to work.

"How about Nel's Tavern on 32nd? We could get a couple drinks," she offered. She wanted a place that was busy enough so that the two would not attract attention. Lenore decided that she'd be daring enough to take Adam to a hotel if needed, so she had little concern that she wouldn't be successful in some manner tonight. She cleared her throat, to sound more reaffirmed. "Look, I have to go, I'll see you there?" She asked lightly, her voice still lingering, as if waiting for an answer.

"Nels Tavern. Nel's," Lenore corrected. She tilted her head, nodding to the owner that she was finishing up. He knew the girl enough not to mind or bother about work. She came here about once a week, which always set a pleasantness about the place. "In two hours. I'm working right now, so I'll meet you there," she mentioned. She got off the wall. "I'll see you in a bit," she murmured and hung up a little abruptly. She put her phone back into the bag and nodded again to the owner. He smiled and went back to back to wiping glasses.

She was anxious now, ready to meet Adam and see his face and smell his cologne and hear him. He was beautiful and enticing, someone Lenore had never met before. Maybe it was his mysteriousness that attracted her so, so used to the normality and indifferent world that she had come to accept in her life. Since becoming a vampire, her perspective was renewed. Things seemed brighter, more vivid. Though the cons were horribly withdrawing, Lenore couldn't help but thank her vampirism for even meeting Adam. She wouldn't have been at that bar that night if she weren't looking for a meal. And she certainly wouldn't have done all the things she did last night if it weren't for this boldness that her vampire side brought to her.

Lenore played, though it was darkened with stronger strokes, though only because the music she played was more outgoing. She hoped Adam could find the place. Nel's tavern wasn't all too popular save for the usual drinkers and football watchers. Lenore liked going there when she enjoyed alcohol because no one tended to bother her there. She played patiently, readily for two hours to arrive.

Had it not been the kindness of the owner, or the slowness on this night, Lenore probably would not have gotten off work earlier than she should've. The restaurant closed up behind her, in result of having a slow night and in hopes of a exceedingly well tomorrow, despite the buzz of the alley and the many people searching for some dinner. Lenore checked the watch on her wrist, deducting there was enough time to run back to her apartment after getting off work thirty minutes earlier than usual. She thought herself especially lucky, and that things were going great for her right now, now walking in a fast pace towards her home.

Her apartment was four stories up, in a menial-looking building. It was in the middle of the hall, her door not as attractive or warm-looking as the others. She could still call it home without the 'welcome home' mat, and still find belonging in a place as small and un-flashy as here. As she turned the key in its lock, she pushed the door open and entered her haven.
It was looking at herself, mirroring her values and hobbies. Very few people ever made it to enter here, and very few people lingered long enough around her to enter it more than once.

She placed her guitar case next to the door, not bothering to put it properly away as she went straight to her bedroom and then to her closet, tossing her purse on her made-but-rumpled bed. Pulling off her coat and shirt in a rush, she pulled on a dark red, burgundy colored sweater. Hair wild, she brushed it hurriedly, and ran out of her apartment, not forgetting to take her purse. She ran down the flight of stairs, which proved especially difficult in heels. Mel's Tavern was three blocks from where she lived, and she was already five minutes late, having forgotten to lock her apartment.

Mel's Tavern was more busy than usual, which surprised Lenore. She stood outside, trying to peek inside to see if Adam had been waiting, though having a hard time doing so through the window.