"How are you feeling?" he asks suddenly, tilting his head, as though he isn't fully sure he should be asking the question himself. My head shoots up in surprise. His tone has dropped, back into the low, velvety hum, and I almost find myself leaning towards it to let its sweet caress soak through my skin. But, I think, pulling back a little, a vampire shouldn't be asking such things at all. In fact, a vampire caring for anyone's feelings, other than perhaps themselves, is an event rarer than seeing a wizard without their walking stick. That is to say- rare.
"I didn't think the Scarlet Prince cared about such things," I reply sharply, catching his gaze with mine, holding it firmly. Soren tilts his head slightly, watching me through amber eyes, his lips parted and eyes hooded. Steadily, he leans further back against the doorframe and begins to pick at his nails idly. The picture of nonchalance.
