"Have you? Two awards, from what I understand," Armand drawls, watching Daniel's veins and their alluring throb at the pulse points. Armand's blood, Daniel's blood, melded together for eternity, a mark none of the humans milling about could possibly see or fathom yet hangs over Daniel like Armand's signature.

He thinks idly of it, only pulled from his musings when Daniel reacts in a different way to the man now approaching. The near stumble, enough Armand's eyes land on the man and his book with the assessment of threat only to find a mundane human man watching them with flavor of thoughts somewhat unique.

It's not as though all of the thoughts around have been scandal and self righteousness- plenty have been amused, congratulatory, or attracted one way or another. Spectacle, the pair of them huddled too close to be strictly platonic by many standards, and here is a personal flare instead. A man who sees reflection, old ghosts and older 'what-ifs,' bodies in unmarked graves. His nails scrape harmlessly down the back of Daniel's neck, fingertips lingering. Possessive but an odd moment of reflection too.

"Your time will soon belong to me," Armand says, watching this man and his bittersweet memories move away. "As we agreed."