A languid shift of configuration, just a little, vampiric grace and strength and even a manipulable sense of gravity take away some of the charming human fumbling around weight distribution, pointy elbows and knees. Moves so they are eye to eye again, Armand's hands coming to rest gently on the rug on either side of Daniel's head.

Floating, a little, but still pressed close. In a funny way, it feels like they're standing against each other.

"And how's your ego faring now?"

Little peeking hints of fang, a lazy hooded look to his expression, but still, eyes of sunset orange as slivers of their own light.