~Samuel J. Livingston~
Seeing that the petite girl sitting silently next to Samuel had not acknowledged him at all, he directed his attention to something a bit more interesting that was occurring at the table; a European male who sounded like an Italian with white hair trying to seduce another European female with a French accent. He was interested in seeing the reactions of both parties when one of them communicated with the other.
He was even more interested in intervening and making things exciting.
Having no feeling of embarrassment, Samuel stood up out of his chair and stretched, slightly arching the center of his spinal cord forward and bringing his arms back vertically behind his head, making them reach as high as he could before straightening and placing his hands into his jacket pockets. He could feel the knife that he always carried with him; the patterned black rubber grip with a bumpy backside and indents where the index, middle, and ring fingers rested for better control, the black, hard plastic ring that the pinky went into, and the sheath, which was also black and made of hard-plastic. He then gazed at both the French woman and the Italian man.
The instant he locked his eyes onto the Italian's body, Samuel immediately had a distaste for him. He had disliked the "art" of seduction for as long he could remember. When he was facing off against someone, Samuel liked for them to not use cheap tricks and strategies that would give him a disadvantage; he enjoyed watching his adversary the entire time he tormented them.
Samuel finally spoke up. "Hey, Italian, what do you think you're doing? If you were any smarter, you'd notice that she doesn't feel comforted by you. Look at her eyes and body. She looks like she's about to bolt out of the room out of pure fear because of what you're doing."
He paused before resuming, staring directly into his eyes when he caught the creep's attention, "I don't like when people like you try to hit on women, although it seems you don't have enough self-respect to resist doing that."
Inside, Samuel was smiling ear-to-ear with eyes wide, anxious of what the creepy Italian guy's move was going to be next. He couldn't wait.
He was even more interested in intervening and making things exciting.
Having no feeling of embarrassment, Samuel stood up out of his chair and stretched, slightly arching the center of his spinal cord forward and bringing his arms back vertically behind his head, making them reach as high as he could before straightening and placing his hands into his jacket pockets. He could feel the knife that he always carried with him; the patterned black rubber grip with a bumpy backside and indents where the index, middle, and ring fingers rested for better control, the black, hard plastic ring that the pinky went into, and the sheath, which was also black and made of hard-plastic. He then gazed at both the French woman and the Italian man.
The instant he locked his eyes onto the Italian's body, Samuel immediately had a distaste for him. He had disliked the "art" of seduction for as long he could remember. When he was facing off against someone, Samuel liked for them to not use cheap tricks and strategies that would give him a disadvantage; he enjoyed watching his adversary the entire time he tormented them.
Samuel finally spoke up. "Hey, Italian, what do you think you're doing? If you were any smarter, you'd notice that she doesn't feel comforted by you. Look at her eyes and body. She looks like she's about to bolt out of the room out of pure fear because of what you're doing."
He paused before resuming, staring directly into his eyes when he caught the creep's attention, "I don't like when people like you try to hit on women, although it seems you don't have enough self-respect to resist doing that."
Inside, Samuel was smiling ear-to-ear with eyes wide, anxious of what the creepy Italian guy's move was going to be next. He couldn't wait.