He didn't quite flinch like he'd been struck but it felt a little bit like it as what the other man said sank in.
"Christ, a fucking bloodsucker." Hannibal flipped one of the shot glasses over and fiddled with it unconsciously. Here he was chatting politely and he hadn't even noticed. That was how you got dead at home.
In fact it was how he'd gotten dead the first time, literally. Hottie with a body. And the teeth to match.
Of course the nonchalant way he'd said it made it worse. He needed another drink ASAP.
"Last time one of you chatted me up in bar I woke up dead."