Dorian is an observant creature by nature, though whether he had forever possessed such a trait or so many years of confinement had seemingly predisposed the man to noticing anything out of what he has established as the ordinary remains to be seen. Even so, the Fae King is given to notice with a striking clarity nearly every detail about his companion each time they meet. His focus is often so wholly upon Sebastian that it is a wonder he can manage to navigate the street at all and yet there is a certain art form to observing ones companion- without appearing to openly do so. Here and now however the manner in which the vampire forgets to breath- or ceases momentarily to remember how to- in the moments the Fae King fingers grace his flesh is hardly unnoticed by the man. He wonders briefly why it occurs. An instinct perhaps? A like of such a fleeting caresses? A response to the warmth of his hand? Dorian, after all, is not near so foolish as to believe that a part of the vampire did not exist that simply craved a meal and yet the Fae finds himself wholly accepting of such a thing. For whatever reason it occurs Dorian finds the other mans halted breath almost endearing in a fashion- his desire to follow the length of the chain is a seemingly shared passion that brings the softest of chuckles to his throat. How his mind saw fit to wonder so quickly! His desire for this single man so easily eclipsing all other thoughts. It was a shame, truly, that they stood within the middle of the street. Dorian forced by the fabric of society to prevent himself from pulling the man against him. Still- he cannot be told not to think about it.

It is Sebastian's response to his mention of the letter that seems to halt any further idle daydreams of the man, one silver eye lifting in a momentary curiosity that such artwork as had been inscribed upon the letter was rarely seen these days. It is possible, he supposes, that such a custom may well have changed in the course of his life and yet truly he had failed to consider to ask Samantha how it might better be presented in the modern time. Still- the notion of no decoration was a decidedly unusual thought to the man. That Sebastian had appreciated it however, was all Dorian found he truly cared to discover, the man's thanks seeing his own simper of pleasure adorn his features in satisfaction. It is perhaps, yet another one of those ridiculous things he found occurring within his mind each time he kept the vampires company. He had come to care about the vampire's opinions of him as he had failed to do for centuries. It mattered, somehow, that Sebastian had taken pleasure in his letter. The other man's assurance that the postal system was hardly complicated however earns a momentary snort of amusement from the Fae- Samantha's explanation having done little more than confuse him thoroughly.

Sebastian's explanation however- held a far more simplistic ideal. This notion of an unseen servant seeming to reside more readily with him, his features frowning ever so slightly in contemplation of this knowledge. His mind fair more readily grasping an understanding of a concept explained with words he already perceived until the idea of it hardly seemed as overwhelming as it had. This modern way of doing things is perhaps still not as fitting as Dorian believes it should be and yet he takes pleasure in understanding all the same, gaze turned to the vampire beside him once more.

"Perhaps then it is not so complicated, as you say. I shall try this."

Aged though he is there is still very much a part of Dorian that is determined to try and understand a world that makes so little sense to him. After so many years caught within a single place in time there was a very great pleasure in mastering modern tasks. It is the sheer modernity of the world however that perhaps only further endears him to the man at his side. There is a comfort to be found in another being aged like himself. Even if Sebastian understood the world far better than Dorian may ever manage to do so, he finds a familiarity in the other man that he very much desires. There is, in truth, a great many things about Sebastian he desires. His companion's assurance that he knew of such a street is met with a simple nod, moving to do as suggested and turn left upon the next street and closer to their destination. He allows several moments of companionable silence before he speaks once more in those accented lyrics.

"Thank you, for keeping my company this evening. You shall, I fear, probably find my interests for tonight decidedly more.....mundane then how most of our evenings have been spent."

He remains unable to prevent the simper that teases upon his lips at even the fleetest of memories of the majority of their previous encounters before allowing himself to be guided down another street and to their ultimate destination. He pauses briefly at the top of the street- allowing Sebastian a moment to see where it is he has brought them this evening. The night markets. This street was alive with people, busy, yet hardly overwhelmingly crowded. Dorian, after all, dislikes the sensation of crowds around him. Many of the trees had been decorated with lights, yet another fascination for the Fae, the sound of music echoing softly from the far end of the street with stalls lining either side. The wealthy eastern side of town, it would appear, did little without some grandeur. In truth, Dorian hardly wished to buy anything. He simply desired to see it. The man finding delight in these things so very simple. Food- it would seem, is given to dominate the early stalls. Dorian entirely content to stroll beside Sebastian amongst them, the fae finding himself moving far closer to his companion in the presence of people he does not know. He hardly fears them, he simply remains aware of them all the same. His shoulder brushing often against Sebastian's own, Dorian entirely aware of it yet holding no desire to be further from him tonight.

"Do you know, Bastien, much of this food is from countries I did not know existed? Ah, but geography was easier when the world was flat. There was less countries."

He chuckles softly and entirely at himself- the pair having progressed into an international foods selection that momentarily sees the Fae King frown before clear inquisitiveness touches his gaze.

"Which one then, is the food of the English?"

Dorian Aragona