Christian sat at the counter of the cofeehouse, facing the doorway and watching the passers-by. It was just after sunset and instead of waning, the bustle seemed to have increased. He sipped his cappuccino quietly, revelling as the bitter fluid hit his tongue.

He was not really focusing on any of that though, more important to him was the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, a feeling of hunger that no human food could fix. He had realised days ago that he could no longer feed on 'alleyway wildlife' as he had come to call them. But as he scanned the coffeehouse full of mortals, his remaining humanity asked him the question:

Can you really do it?

But the answer was still no. He was not like that. He hoped dearly he never would be. Christian stood slowly, and thanked God he still had what was left of his humanity. He left the remains of his coffee on the counter and quickly left the cafe.