Vincent

Vincent looked to be about 35 years old, he was a decent and tidy man, but terribly lonely. He had his own small coffee shop on a quiet street in the city. They rarely went there, but there was income.
It's almost evening now, there's no one in the cafe, everyone has left. Vincent stood behind the wooden counter, resting his head on his hand. He somehow sighed heavily, feeling a cold emptiness not even in the cafe, but in his heart.
He wasn't really human, he could definitely be called a vampire. He has actually been living for 344 years, but for some reason he still has no luck in his personal life.