We stayed in that skull-shaped booth way longer than necessary.
I don't even remember who ordered the second round.
One second, Dario was mimicking a toilet ghost with a British accent, and the next, another batch of drinks appeared out of nowhere, fogging up the already gloomy booth with more green mist and questionable scents.
"Alright, last round or I'm going to start believing I actually am a vampire," Seraphina said, squinting into her glass.
"Don't worry," Dario smirked, "if anyone here's turning into a bloodsucker, it's Noah. Look at him, brooding like someone just stole his tragic backstory."
I flipped him off without lifting my head. "I have a tragic backstory."
"Exactly," he said, sipping dramatically.
Eventually, Aurelia stretched like a cat on a velvet couch.
