After driving around the city for a while, Richard pulled into a parking spot in front of a dimly lit bar. The sign above the door read "Le Coeur de la Nuit" (The Heart of the Night), and Richard could already feel the allure of the place. It was said to be one of the best bars in Paris.
He got out of the car and walked into the bar, his eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and liquor, and Richard felt right at home.
As Richard entered the dimly lit bar, his eyes scanned the room, taking in the sultry atmosphere. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and liquor, and the sound of smooth jazz floated through the air. But what really caught his attention was the bartender.
She was a stunning woman with long, curly brown hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall. Her bright green eyes sparkled as she laughed with a customer, and her full lips curled up into a sultry smile. Richard's eyes were drawn to her petite nose ring, which glinted in the dim light. She was dressed in a fitted black tank top and high-waisted jeans, which accentuated her curves.
Richard felt a sudden jolt of attraction as he made his way to the bar stand. He took a seat on one of the stools and caught the bartender's eye.
"Welcome to Le Coeur de la Nuit," she said, her voice husky and confident. "What can I get you tonight?"
Richard smiled, taking in her features. "Just a whiskey, please. Something strong and smooth."
The bartender raised an eyebrow. "I think I have just the thing," she said in her fluent British accent, reaching for a bottle of fine scotch.
As she poured Richard's drink, he glanced around the bar, taking in both the faces and emotions of the people present. He could feel himself getting series of strong emotions including euphoria and confidence.
And this gave him a bit of pleasure, as he felt the emotions of others, getting lost in them. But a soothing voice suddenly snapped him out of it. "Hey, amber eyes. Here you go," the bartender said, and slid a glass of whiskey to Richard.
Richard caught the cup and smiled. "Grazie," he muttered and took a sip from the cup.
"Prego," the bartender replied with a smile
Richard raised his brows. "You speak Italian?" he asked, trying to initiate a conversation with the beautiful bartender
"Clearly," she replied with a chuckle
"That's impressive. You speak like an English woman, but you look Australian and yet you understand Italian," he stated with a look of awe, making the bartender smile
"Well, I could say the same for you. You have a mid-atlantic accent, look German, but yet, you speak Italian," she pointed out
"I do not look German," Richard chuckled. "Do you see a mustache on my face?"
The bartender chuckled. "No, but not all German men have a mustache," she said
"Really? I thought it was a kind of fashion sense for the men in Germany? You sound like you've been there," Richard muttered
"Infact I have," she replied. "And gosh, there are more remarkable fashion styles in Germany, than just the mustache,"
Richard's face brightened in curiosity and delight. "Hmm, do enlighten me," he smiled, taking another sip from the cup of whiskey.
The bartender smiled and they began a casual conversation. They talked about everything from music to movies, and Richard found himself laughing and feeling at ease. But there was something about the bartender that Richard found strange; he couldn't read her emotions.
Well, he could read it but, it was as if she was feeling every single kind of emotion all at once, which made it impossible for him to know her actual emotion.
But one thing was certain; he liked it. He enjoyed the fact that for the first time in centuries, he met someone whose emotion he couldn't feel. It was thrilling and mysterious and that made him anxious, curious, and ecstatic.
But as the conversation went on, Richard couldn't help but notice the way the bartender's eyes sparkled when she laughed. He found himself leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur.
The bartender seemed to sense the shift in atmosphere, and she leaned in closer, her face inches from Richard's. "So, what really brings you to the bar tonight?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Richard's eyes locked onto hers, and he felt a jolt of electricity run through his body. "Who is she, really?" he thought
"Just looking for a strong drink and some good... company," he said, his voice low and kittenish.
The bartender paused and then burst into laughter. "Hmm, I see. Sorry, but I'm not on menu," she said in a flirtatious manner, contrasting her words.
Richard furrowed his brows. "Really? But your voice says otherwise," he whispered
"Guess that just how I sound," she shrugged, before pouring Richard another round of whiskey.
Richard sighed. "Ehn, I was only kidding anyway. You sound like my little sister, and look a lot like my niece. It'll be weird," he muttered with a chuckle and grabbed the new cup of whiskey.
"Yeah, no doubt," she giggled. "But are you serious? Do I really look like your niece?"
Richard nodded. "Yes, and sound like my sister," he replied
"Wow, that's cool. They sound cool," the bartender muttered and began cleaning up. It appeared no one.. or rather, no man had approached her ever since Richard sat there. They would normally want to, but one fierce glance from Richard and they would scram, and go to another bartender.
"They are," Richard said with a nostalgic smile. "But, I think you're cool too," he added with a coquettish gaze
The bartender chuckled. "Once again, not happening. But I can help you in other ways," she muttered with a cute giggle
Richard sighed. "I just figured I tried my luck again. But turns out, you are one tough cookie. And your last sentence was deeply in contrast with what you mean. Are you sure you don't want to reconsider?" he asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He was like the devil, looking extremely charming and persuasive.
But the bartender was no ordinary person, she resisted his charms like they weren't even there. "Nice try, amber eyes. But no, what I meant was I could engage you in a conversation," she said.