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Post by LUKE ALAN OLIVER on Mar 22, 2011 0:40:57 GMT -5
Luke wasn’t stupid enough to not know he was good-looking. However, he also knew attraction had much less to do with physical appearance than the right “vibe”, which he found somewhat of a challenge. He’d come to the conclusion that it was part of the reason he kept getting dumped. Aside from his Australian accent, which proved effective even if it was shallow, Luke didn’t have much of a “vibe”, especially when it came to bars. He tended to be an honest, upfront sort of person, one of the only guys in the room who was less interested in the raging pheromones – although they were certainly a perk – and more interested on a girl who actually wanted to go on a damn date with him. His girlfriends usually called him a rare breed for a few weeks, before deciding rare meant overrated and kicking him to the curb. It should have bothered him more, even made him a little wearier, and after every incident, he swore he would be. But it never seemed to work that way. Love just found a way of weaseling its way right back into his life again.
Tonight seemed to be something a little different. Eden seemed uninterested before the whole thing even began, as if his very presence scared her off without intention. It troubled him to a certain extent, but with a beer in front of him, it was hard to dwell for long. He waved as Rhys rose and walked off, and then focused his attention on the newcomer. Silas was an interesting sort of fellow; when he had stories to tell, they always seemed to be intriguing. Luke liked smart people like his friend. He felt like Silas and Rhys, among others, encouraged him to “act his intelligence” when he was around them.
One of his dark brows rose as his friend began to speak and he took a swig of his beer before Eden unexpectedly tugged him from his seat. Even as he found himself being stolen away to the dance floor, he couldn’t help but mull a little over what Silas had said. A student? That didn’t seem very like him. Or maybe it did. No use in worrying about it too much. The man was always a mystery. Luke just hoped, for his sake, he didn’t get in trouble. For now, he turned his attention to the woman in front of him.
“You should probably know I’m a terrible dancer,” he laughed. “Can’t get the rhythm right. Ever.” But he moved anyway, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her a little closer to him. At least he felt a slight buzz from the alcohol. The drunker he was, the better dancer he was. “So… Triple shots of hard liquor.” He grinned and winked; even he knew his smile was one of his best features. “Hard-core. Not planning on driving, are we? Because if you need a ride home…” He thought for a moment. “Shit, I took the bus, didn’t I? Ah, well. I'll buy you a drink anyway.”
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