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Rhett felt like a ******* idiot as he stood in a bookstore looking for a hobby book. What sort of person at his age didn't have a hobby or didn't know where to start to get one? Him. Only him. In his hands were two books, one titled, 'Your Book of Hobbies,' the other titled, 'Crafts and Hobbies.'

Neither seemed like the right book. Not the things he was looking for when he thought of hobbies. Nothing crafty. But when he looked online, all he saw were things the typical guy did. X-box, make his own beer and then there were things like larping and card games. Rhett didn't even have the slightest idea, but it sure didn't seem like something he'd get in to. With a sigh, he put the books back in about the same spot he found them in and moved further down the aisle to try and find something, hell, anything that would help him find a hobby.

How ******* pathetic, he thought as Rhett moved down the aisle, looking at all the various topics that didn't interest him. Needle work, scrapbooking, painting, building. It went on and on and on, but nothing seemed to stick out at him. He saw something titled 'Spinning,' and only paused to see what it was because Rhett had never heard of anything like that before. Ever. With a shake of his head, the book was back on the shelf and sighed. A hand moved to the back of his neck and rubbed it, his hand practically engulfing the entirety of the back of his neck as he stood there looking at the books. He blew a few puffs of air from his chest after taking some in, which was kind of weird for Rhett. Thinking how to make your chest muscles work and your lungs expand. When human, it just came naturally, with little to no effort.

He moved his hand from the back of his neck when Rhett noticed a small, red spot on his gray colored tank top. Blood. Blood from the pack he forced himself to drink down earlier in the night. Some must have spilled because as he looked down, Rhett saw another spot on his gray and lime green colored shoes. Rhett looked around nervously and then laughed at himself internally. Stop being an idiot. No one's noticed so far. He grabbed another book, let his shoulders relax and began skimming through it.

Seraphim, having just finished a snack back at the crypt, walked into the book store while flicking her tongue out to catch a few stray droplets of crimson. No one seemed to pay her any attention, which was normally the way she liked it. It was a surprise, however, as the girl had picked the path of an allurist when reborn into this god forsaken new world. Normally those types of vampires were egotistical and absolutely self absorbed, through and through and got annoyed whenever someone diverted attention in the other direction. The Russian didn't really give a damn. She was happy to be left alone half the time.

Then again, there was no harm in finally getting out for some fresh air. This had to be... what? The second time she had gone out in public as her newly made self? Definitely the first time being alone without Niklaus. He had lectured her many times on the proper ways to snatch, drink and leave dazed. The girl had only killed one human boy so far... and that had been one of the best times she had ever had. New vampire senses made everything so much more fun.

The doorbell had stopped tinkling as she made her way down the rows, eyes flickering to catch the sight of a seemingly distressed Rhett, her interest inflaming those aquamarine irises. He was having trouble finding a book to read. Cocky as ever, the girl swiftly grabbed the proper book from the shelf and sharply turned the corner so that she was adjacent to him. Feigning disinterest, she slipped the book into his arms. Dante's Inferno. The girl couldn't help but feel a smirk tug at the corner of her lips as she pretended to inspect a very 'interesting' title. Plumbing 101. "I highly recommend," she finally spoke, her thick Russian accent flowing past her full lips. She hadn't made eye contact with him just yet.

Rhett was skimming a book about marbles when a voice was heard. He didn't think the voice belonged to anyone that was talking to him-because he didn't really know anyone! It didn't sound German, so it wasn't Dhara, and it didn't sound like it belonged to Esperanza and it didn't belong to Jesse either. But when a book was plopped in his arms, Rhett couldn't deny that the woman with a very thick, and unusual accent was talking to him, even if the book had found its way in his arms before she even spoke.

It was all surreal. The book about plumbing fell from his hands and to the floor, as his eyes locked on the book's title. He never even heard of it and doubt he would have picked it up, even if it was the absolute last and only book in the entire place. It didn't seem like anything he would read. Rhett was practical, and comedy didn't fit in his world. That's what it said, 'Dante's Inferno, The Devine Comedy.' It didn't look very funny to him. Someone had a strange sense of humor. The writer and the woman apparently with the very thick accent.

"Uhhm, no. I don't think that's what I'm looking for." Rhett stammered as he tried to return the book with one hand, as he bend over to pick up the book about plumbing he had been looking for, if and when the time came he ever got his own place. The Fforde home was nice, but Rhett didn't exactly feel welcomed there, not that anyone made him feel unwelcomed. Everyone was always so loud and destructive. Talking about fight nights and hitting him with paintball or trying to get cash out of his pockets. What sort of people take cash from 'family?' "But thank you." Rhett said as he looked up at the dark haired woman, his eyes on the slight curl in her hair as he tried to look past her and at the woman's face, unsuccessfully due to the long length of her hair.

Seraphim couldn't help but let out a laugh at his comment on how the book read 'the divine comedy' as it had nothing to do with comedy. She turned her gaze to his, intense blue eyes fixating on his. A mix of emotion seemed to cross her features - confusion, intimidation and then finally... lust or was that a form of meekness she could provoke within herself at lewd thoughts that seemed to pop out of no where. "U-Uh..." she breathed softly, her eyes unable to stray from his. She had forgot what she wanted to say. Lost all words.

Finally, she attained them back and begun to stammer just as he had. "It's not about comedy." The girl pulled a strand of dark hair behind her ear, side leaning against the book shelf gently. "Fourteenth century epic poem... with hell depicted in nine circles located within earth..." she continued, trying to focus on anything but his face. Her finger tips worked anxiously into the hem of her shirt. What the hell was she acting that way for?

"It represents the soul's journey to find God. Mostly... easy to read poems," she murmured and slipped a thin book back into the shelf, her eyes never once breaking away from him. She had begun to notice little details about Rhett. Like the edges of a dark tattoo peaking up the side of his delicious looking throat. She had a sudden urge to... kiss it.

Rhett had been so absorbed for hours that he didn't even notice the store had a PA system and that it had been playing music. Even when the songs came on that he knew, he never even raised a brow, hummed, or tapped along to the songs. They were minor background noise at best, being heard, but not actually being listened to. Finally, when the male stood at his full height, he could see the woman properly now and he instantly backed up as their eyes connected for the briefest second just out of every day pleasantries.

He heard her talking, but again, Rhett wasn't actually listening. He was making mental notes about her. The color of her eyes, the way her lips moved, the sound of her accent, how tall she was, what she was wearing and all the curves of her body. "Ahhh." Rhett said only because there was silence from the woman at some point and he felt like he shouldn't be gawking at her. "Is it hot in here?" Rhett asked nervously as he stepped back from the woman, bumping into the shelf next to him as a nervous chuckle passed through his lips as he took the second step back. "I mean, I'll, ahhh think about it." He wouldn't. Rhett wasn't thinking about anything but her and how to get away from her. What the hell was wrong with him?

Seraphim cocked her head to the side, watching him scramble back from her as if she were an archangel of death, out to seize his very soul. She arched a fine eyebrow in a quizzical manner and stepped towards him, the palm of her hand enveloping his elbow as she made sure he wasn't going to fall further into whatever else.

"That was a lie," she murmured, tsking softly in amusement. His awkwardness was adorable. She took a step forward, enjoying how unnerved he was by her. She lifted a hand and pressed it to his face, her finger tips then slowly caressing the flesh as she slid back to her side, her body now uncomfortably close to his. She had no acknowledgement for personal space or bubbles. She often breached them and didn't care. All she knew is that she had the sudden desire to touch him and never stop.

She touched him and there was an instant where Rhett stopped scrambling around and just stood there. Like he was in awe of the woman before him. "I, uhh, what was?" Rhett didn't even remember what he or she said because she was so close to him. He swallowed and he swallowed hard. Did she hear him? She had to of.

He felt the coolness of her palm on the side of his face and when it got close to his nose, he smelled her. Rhett ******* smelled her like he was a dog. But she smelled good. Really good. "You like comedy?" He asked, trying to play off the fact he just smelled a complete stranger. That's when he remembered he didn't know her name and he really did want to know her name deep down. "I'm Rhett." He offered as one of his hands moved to hers to pull it from his face, only when their hands touched, he didn't have the willpower to remove the hand he intended on moving. "I think-no, you smell really good."

What the **** is wrong with you? Rhett felt like he was in high school. No, scratch that. Middle school. Like the sixth grade. He laughed and then stepped back again. "I really like your accent." ******* smooth, Rhett. "I've never heard it before. Where are you from?" He swallowed again before his eyes moved down to where her breasts were for about twenty seconds or so before Rhett realized he was staring at them. "Is it required that everyone reads that book where you come from?" Real nice, He thought as Rhett silently kicked himself.

She blinked multiple times when his hand touched hers, which was placed against his face whilst admiring his features. She crinkled her nose and laughed softly at the boy. "I'm not a huge fan of comedy, no." She took another half a step towards him, her body almost pressing against his. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Rhett. My name is Seraphim Chernikova." She quirked a brow once again and then smirked at his compliment. "Thank you."

The girl then moved her face ever so carefully towards his, her lips inches away from his. Those eyes flickered down to stare at them, as if giving away what she truly wanted in that moment. "Russian. I am from Russia," she whispered softly, her breath smelling of mint. She had just spit out gum and recently. "You are only required if you like dark things." She felt her eyes twinkle with utter amusement, her lips just barely touching his. Almost there but not quite.

Rhett was gawking at her, and he knew it too, but he couldn't help it. The male couldn't look away from the woman as she kept talking and inching her way in to his life and on him. She was practically on top of him and Rhett hadn't been this close to a woman like this in years. Maybe eight?

Her laugh was infectious and drew him to her. It didn't matter if she was laughing with or at him. It was music to his ears no matter what the case was. Russian, he should have guessed it. Rhett licked his lips before talking, his eyes on the woman's lips. She was like an angel, or at least her laughter was.. "I never met anyone from Russia before. Is it cold there?" Rhett knew the answer as he asked it and again, thought he was being really ******* stupid right now. Why was she still here? He would have ran ages ago if the roles were reversed.

Dark things. That had his undivided attention. Did Rhett like dark things? He didn't know, but the way she said it sounded so inviting and something he wanted to know more about. If she liked dark things, then he decided he did too. "I do. I like dark things." Rhett said quickly, and in a way that might have made people believe that wasn't exactly true. "Like your hair. It's dark." Stop talking, Rhett chided internally as his other hand found some of her dark hair and touched the silken strands of it before he leaned down and kissed her. Yeah, Rhett could occasionally be in to dark things.

Words no longer registered with Seraphim, as she was too busy lost in either his eyes or the smooth curves of his lips. She had not bothered trying to decipher what it was that he was saying and everything didn't matter the second their lips touched. It was like a spark being ignited, tingling her entire body.

She instinctively pushed into him, her lips caressing against his. She moved those slender fingers to the back of his head, where she gently knotted her fingers into his short locks, pulling his face closer to his. She didn't care if anyone seen them.