Settling back into the corner of the couch, my feet kicked up onto the coffee table, I snorted a laugh through a swallow of beer, catching that little smile on his face.

"He's pretty," I said pointedly, watching his face– those weird, jewel-toned eyes. "And really strange. He kept asking me what he's supposed to do here. What's expected."

Picking at the label on my beer, I observed, "He wants somebody to tell him what to do."