The Dark Angel finished his meal and pushed his plate aside. As the barmaid reluctantly came to remove his dish, he paid and tipped her as she refilled his mug of ale, the whole time spent with her avoiding looking at him even though she felt him watching her. But a quick glance up only revealed her own reflection staring back at her in his dark lenses.
She quickly got back behind the bar, trying not to squeal as she disgustingly deposited the coins onto the counter. Her and a few others stared at the coins he had removed from his pocket and handed her. A few were bloody like his clothes and they hesitated to think where or from whom he might have gotten them from.
He sat in silence, drinking his second mug of ale. Then, his nose caught a familiar scent and his ear twitched, turning to the sound of footsteps and the door opening. But he didn't move. He knew who it was. He just wished he didn't.
A female stood in the doorway. She also stood 5'5". She had a cat-like tail and face, but zebra-length ears. Her whole body was covered in orange fur and she was striped like a tiger, only with bright yellow stripes instead. She had a little pink nose and pretty lavender eyes that sparkled with life. She wasn't skinny, but she wasn't overtly fat. She was just curvy with about a c-cup bust. Her long hair was only slightly darker than the orange on her fur with yellow streaks. It almost looked like fire. Her tail flicked nervously and she rung her hands together, the tips of her claws coming out and then retracting as though she were kneading. She wore a French maid's uniform. She wasn't fashion model gorgeous, but she was pretty and had the 'girl next door' type of look.
Was she even in the right place? Of course she was. She was sure of it. She'd heard this was a safe place, and she always made sure to keep tabs on him wherever he went, even though she was sure he would prefer her not to. She gasped as she walked in, seeing the huge bloodied scythe leaning by the door, guarded with the rest of the weapons checked in. She turned her head, not wanting to look at it as she tried to keep her lunch down. Now she was sure he was here.
She made her way over to his table and sat across from him, trying not to think of the fact he was wearing bloody clothes. She tried to convince herself that he hunted animals, or was a butcher in a meat factory, or anything really than to admit to herself what he really was and just where all that blood had came from. But it was really no use. She knew what he was. The first night she learned what had become of him, the screams of the innocent in her head kept her from sleep. But that was then.
She smiled at him, showing a mouthful of the same pointed teeth he had, only not quite as sharp. "Hey." He looked at her, seeming to stare through her. Her own reflection stared at her in his sunglasses. He spoke not a word. That was ok. She knew she was probably the last person he wanted to see. But even despite what he was she still loved him. After all, he was her brother - her twin brother.
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