"Which is not that strange, in Antiva. What we are is simple enough. Sescios- friends that share a bed from time to time when life is good and things are going well. While there is familiarity and affection shared- it is not love, Michel. I am an assassin. I do not do 'love'. Passion, now..." Still trying to distract, to deflect, to twist this into something familiar as he leaned a hip against his desk and shipped his brandy. "Passion I feel quite often and you have quite a bit about you that I find enticing."