There was an element of both anger and hatred within the gaze, his slender figure in such a position that none could refute the cold silence which echoed from him. He watched each man, each woman with a bitter stare but few noticed his envious watch in the dim light of the room. Alone, he stood in distaste as couples were formed in the night's warm glow, his bitter nature perpetuated with the loneliness which both his heart and his groins felt. Each couple was met with a scorn, so violent and furious it could have formed from the pits of hell. He thought himself alone, unloved but his stance and his frown was the mere reason for his stone heart, his search for a release conflicting with his envious rage. He wondered if people noticed him. He wondered if there were others like him that stood, leaning against the bar with hatred boiling within them, watching the couples as he did and falling deeper in the abyss of loneliness, lacking in the vivacious emotion which circulated the room.
He considered leaving the place, believing that there was no future nor was there the potential for a relationship within the cold, modern bar which was far from his scene. The dim lights, the sound of music resounding from the large speakers and the constant need to shout were a mere inconvenience. He thought this place to be degenerate but the barman continued to serve him drinks, regardless of his refusal. His shoulders were tense, his spine in pain as he shuffled his position in an attempt to escape the arthritic pain which was forming from his lack of movement. In his hand, the small glass of scotch lingered, untouched for the last few minutes. It was a fine, acquired taste but one that he did not appreciate as he sometimes did, the alcohol becoming the root to his lonesome depression but unable to stop himself, falling to sweet temporal pleasure of intoxication, hoping it would offer him an escape from the realities of his monotonous life.
Instead, it left him feeling the fool. The night was long and painful, more and more people filing into the bar and he was often shuffled from place to place as couples sought to liven their relationships with dancing and romance, both of which he had none of. His own drinking brought a number of curious, if not disapproving looks, much like his loneliness did. His small stature left him at a disadvantage, unnoticed at times whilst his short brown hair and chocolate irises caught the attention of those sensitive enough to appreciate his toned but fine figure. Some attempted to advance upon him, two blonde women whom were giggling like schoolgirls but he soon cast a glance that showed he was not interested. A large man of six foot soon came next but he thought himself to be dominated with the conflict of height and he apologetically moved from the man but gave no exact reason as for his refusal.
The night was much the same as others had been; his scotch glass continued to remain full and he was alone close to the end. Men and women had advanced upon him but few caught his attention. Whether it was his standards that brought him loneliness or his continued need to feel protected that made him a lone soldier, he did not know. Alone, he stepped from the bar and moved towards the door but a man caught his attention in the distance, his last glance into the bar which was now brimming with couples offered him the chance to see the tall, slender blonde which stood alone at the bar, his frown much the same as his was. For a moment, there was the element of indecisiveness and doubt, standing at the door with the cold winds blowing his short strands of brown hair all over the place. He paused and closed the door, attempting to find his route towards the blonde man.
Moving from place to place, it took him a long period of time to fight through the crowds, finding the blonde man standing alone but not looking at people in particular. He seemed distant, as though lost in thought and the expression was beautiful. His soft lips were curved into a frown, oceanic blue irises capturing the essence of innocence which aroused him. He strode towards the man and sat a few seats apart, not wishing to seem too eager. He looked at the man; he had not noticed the average man a few seats from him, still lost in his thoughtfulness. "Would you like a drink?" He asked the blonde man, smiling as the man turned towards him and gave him a mischievous grin. "If you wouldn't mind." He said and the two men ordered drinks. "I apologise. I'm James." The blonde man said, James, it was a nice name if not common. The brown haired man responded as he took a slight sip from his scotch. "I'm William." He said and James outstretched his hand.
