Ironically, the vampire in the club is living it up a lot less enthusiasm. Her reasons for being there aren't so different as their core—she wants a distraction. What she's trying to ignore might be different, but the method isn't.
Except she's less comfortable with this than she would have been ten years ago, or twenty years ago. Now she's second guessing. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe it wouldn't be so easy to sneak off for an hour or so with someone warm and attractive and not take a bite. Maybe there was a part of her that wanted to slip up.
And maybe, mostly, she was overthinking it.
When a cute redhead in a low cut top leans across the bar next to her, Natasha lets herself be distracted. It's what she came out for in the first place, right? Not staring. She has some restraint. But she notices the cleavage, and she notices the neck, and her gaze in the end comes to land on the younger woman's face.
"You look like you're having a good time," she observes. "Looking for a drink?"
The North Pole
Except she's less comfortable with this than she would have been ten years ago, or twenty years ago. Now she's second guessing. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe it wouldn't be so easy to sneak off for an hour or so with someone warm and attractive and not take a bite. Maybe there was a part of her that wanted to slip up.
And maybe, mostly, she was overthinking it.
When a cute redhead in a low cut top leans across the bar next to her, Natasha lets herself be distracted. It's what she came out for in the first place, right? Not staring. She has some restraint. But she notices the cleavage, and she notices the neck, and her gaze in the end comes to land on the younger woman's face.
"You look like you're having a good time," she observes. "Looking for a drink?"