Then I'll be holding you to that. [-he says, easing himself down onto the ground, then pressing a hand to his chest and leaning forward, almost imploringly. Conspiratorially.

But then he straightens again, smiling, and takes the bottle by its neck. There are more elegant ways of sipping at wine, but they've long abandoned any pretense of elegance and grace. The days when they're not doused in blood and grime are the good ones.]

I'm all ears.

[Accentuated with his own swig from the bottle. It goes down easily, pleasantly — and though nothing will ever be as sating or as satisfying as blood for an immortal vampire, he can still enjoy a good spirit or two.]

Especially since I've come to realize that I don't really know much about you at all.