It hadn't occurred to the otherworldly creature that their melancholic tragedy of a shared past might somehow be a point of devoted attachment between the pair. After all, for the longest time, Tetradore had faulted himself for getting the auburn haired woman involved within the calamity that had so brutally transformed her into the impressive creature she had blossomed into. It had taken him perhaps an excessively long time to even express a shard of attraction within the lovely woman and even longer still to produce an object to solidify his muted feelings. Despite the year that had passed, there were still some aspects to Tetradore's freedom that he still found difficulty in accepting. For example, throughout the entirety of his youth such an intimate interest in others was strictly prohibited less he wished to watch their inevitable death or torment. Isolt had certainly not been the first in those few but fluttering instances though she had certainly left her mark upon the fellow's subconscious - as unnecessary as such a lesson now was. Still, regardless of the anguish the two had contended with, Tetradore found himself taken a back by her humble admittance to appreciating his presence within her life.

Surely the young woman had hinted to some fashion or another that he was hardly the loathsome ghoul that he had cast himself to be - but hearing those words come so candidly from her sweet heart lips provided him with an undeniable sincerity that he could not merely write off as her usual kindness. Gingerly, a simper pulled at the far corner's of his lips, showing the barest hint of a genuine delight within the usually stoic man. "I would like that." He responded to her, willing to make himself more present within the female's life if she was so willing to accept him. "And I'm sure Raven and Tobias would like to see more of you too. You're always welcome in the Ark, if you choose. I mean, I know it's not the most prestigious of places...." His baritone voice trailed off, his emerald eyes drifted in an almost disconcerted fashion towards the sand beneath them. Tetradore was hardly oblivious to the perhaps rugged and uncultivated cargo ship that he had claimed for his own, nor was he in any fashion inattentive to the dignified manner at which the young woman held herself. Their worlds would surely clash in every regard and yet, here they were all the same.

It was this delicate dance of cautious truths that saw Tetradore fail to recollect his once diligent supervision of the timepiece upon his wrist. He missed the fashion at which the minute hand ticked onto the appointed hour just as he too failed to notice the way in which she held her smoldering arm from his vibrantly hued gaze. Instead, Tetradore was momentarily entranced by the whimsically delighted look upon the vampire's face as she stared not only into the face of the sun but also the certain death it told for her. Briefly, he couldn't help but to be glad that he was capable of providing her with this fleeting moment of contentment. "Isolt." He spoke softly, his words but a mere whisper for her listening ears, "You look beautiful, you know."