The lady's soft call reverberates off the concrete walls as she walks down the subway line, eyes shiningasthe small lamps reflect off of them. Her coal black hair was tied up in a bun, and she was wearing a tight leather dress that went down to her knees. She finally gives up and climbs back onto the platform, trying to advoid looks from mortals as she sits in a dark corner, waiting for something to happen. There were far too many people to feed on one..so she would wait.

As a train's screeching cry of its hault rang through the tunnels, and the yellow "Caution" tape fluttered from the breeze caused by the metal monstrosity, Jonah sat within the closed off tunnels, his back against the cold concrete wall. Under his fingers he rolled a green bottle, filled with a penny or two, the clinking of it serving as a temperary cure for his boredom. Though on that same breeze, a perfume was carried, the perfume worn by someone who knew death better than anyone living. A perfume he found comfort in. He pushed the bottle away and it shattered against the opposite wall as he stood.

The sleves of his red button up were rolled up to the elbow, two buttons done the others looked over without consequence. The black belt run through the loops of his leather pants was undone though he made quick to fasten it as he began his stride on the catwalk to the platform.

He turned the corner, stopping and remaining close to the wall, being sure to be nobody.. His head tilted to the side, touching the white tile as he looked at where she sat, only a few more paces from where he was.

The sound of the bottle breaking caught her attention, and her gaze quickly shifted to the tunnels, watching Jonah make his way over. She smiled softly, not being able to help herself. But it quickly faded as she didn't want anyone to know he was important to her. At least mortals, anyways. She opened her mouth a speak, a small "hey" escaping her lush lips. But she was unsure to whether or not he had heard her.

He titled his head forward, the long strands of hair that could be called his bangs hanging in his eyes, and he offered her a smirk. In a blink he brisked past the living and was standing before her, bending at his waist and inahling the aroma of her raven hair...an obsession of his. A gentle cold kiss, not to be expect from a beast like him, was laid on her for head and he returned to his arrogant posture, hands placed cooly in his pockets. "Good evening, love.."

He grinned again and pursed his lips momentarily as he looked down at her, withdrawing a hand from the folds of his trousers and brushing his index finger under her chin, against the silky and chilled skin that he craved every second of this life he owned.