"It would have been rude of me to leave matters unfinished," Gortash answers smoothly. Because he had asked specifically about attending to him, yes. And of course he inwardly hoped he would take him up on it, even if there was no longer the same finery to unwrap from his body. (It felt nice to be free from it himself; he wasn't weighed down by nearly as many layers as some, but it all feels like a lot, even to him.)

Right now, this feels lighter. Comforting even.

The Dark Urge is radiant in the dim light, pinpricks of illunination caught by his piercings, his eyes, the glow illuminating his pale skin in all is perfections. Even though they are both standing near the fire, Enver feels suddenly chilled.

"I hope you're of a similar mind."