There is something...not quite what was before, the hand offered. There was a moment that felt similar. An evening after recovering from a public function. Perhaps too public. Showing him the bruises still striping his hips. A promise made and then echoed in kind. A touching of foreheads, something that felt just as intimate as a kiss before the bhaalist had a taste for it.

It still feels like that. Welcome, missed. Enver places his hand in the Dark Urge's with no hesitation.

The question takes him a little. Does that mean he does now? "...No. I imagine if you would have told anyone, it would have been me."