He watched her sitting at the bar, her glass empty, likely trying to decide if another would be wise.  Drinking was not her style; this place was not where her repetition belongs.  But he knew she didn't care about filling the out the image of herself for others.  He wanted to sit beside her, offer her that other drink, and even share one.  But they weren't together.  Sometimes he questioned to himself if they were even friends at all.  She had so many secrets, broken promises and dreams after all she was human.  And he feared getting too close.  So he just stands in the back, hidden in the shadows the cigarette smoke choking his lungs.  This defiantly was not where she belonged.  Though he understood the reason why, who won't want to drown the soul after that scene?  After all the blood, they weren't even considered human anymore.

He thought he could handle anything, that wasn't anything.  If the horror touched him that deeply, he couldn't imagine what she thought of it.  That was the reason she came here staring at the vodka bottles lined up on the counter.  He didn't want her to do something foolish, didn't want her following a stranger to an unmentioned location.  It also didn't go with her personality.  Never in this world was not a word with any meaning.  All he could was watch and protect like always.  Ignoring the pain he felt, the desire to be held and loved.  Though the frustrations and the vulnerably within her were intoxicating, he won't move from that wall.