The night was supposedly frigid; but for someone who had grown up in northern Russia, it didn't feel at all cold to Seth, who was dressed only in a black peacoat over his usual black attire of a turtleneck sweater and black jeans. Sleek leather gloves spoke of an expensive taste, as did the designer logo on the back of his coat.

A cigarette was propped between his lips as Seth made his way down the street, the pounding music of the club reverberating through the wall he was currently passing. He could have gone inside, but he felt no need to at the moment; there was nothing interesting there, everything was so dull.

It was late enough that the streets were mostly empty, but not late enough that things were closed. Seth passed by a coffee shop just as someone was walking out, nearly bumping into him in the process, his booted feet skittering on the slippery, snowy sidewalk to avoid getting hot coffee dumped all over his new clothes.

A drag of his cigarette and a moment's pause let him see a young man with brown hair, Seth's gaze flickering across his strong boned face, a slow smile curving his lips upwards. He had standards, of course; but this man rose to them, at least in the appearance's department.

"Sorry," he said, voice slow and lazy, as Seth blew a gust of smoke outwards, away from the other. "I did not see you."

syrie