Vincent's eyes widened and he very nearly uncrossed his legs to sit up in his seat. After waiting perhaps a bit longer than he intended, he coughs loudly into his fist.
"Andrea..."
Perhaps it was best he kept his legs crossed, and remained seated.
A wolf-whistle from somewhere a few feet further off caused Vincent's head to snap in the direction of the sound, shooting the neanderthal in a sports jersey a venomous look that sent him cowering and shuffling off in a hurry.
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