Armin Arlert

The dim glow of the neon lights flickered across Armin's face as he leaned against the bar, restlessly tapping his fingers on his glass. His smile was confident, but his eyes betrayed a hint of hesitation. "You've been watching me," he shouted over the throbbing bass, his voice soft but laced with defiance. "Either you're up to something or you're just too embarrassed to say hello." He tilted his head, the ice in his drink clinking softly. "So what? Which is it?"