It was peculiar really, the dislike that Tetradore found growing within him at the very scent of her fear. Usually, those emotions were regarded with nothing more then frank disinterest but tonight he found himself unsettled by the presence of it still lingering even in spite of that vampire's lack of presence. How he so clearly haunted her! How he had so dominated her in ways that even Tetradore refused to let Risque take himself. A small frown marred his features as he declared the simple need to ensure that the bed was reclaimed for her alone. Whatever happened to her amongst those sheets needed to be replaced with memories far better than those that stalked her. It was with that in mind that Tetradore leaned forward only to delicately press his lips against her own in a kiss that was entirely fleeting and yet sweet in every facet. He was aware, vaguely, of the warmth of her figure, though truly he thought particularly little of it. After all, his own kind ran rather hot in comparison to those of the other species and she was the first witch he'd gotten close enough to touch in such a fashion. It was within those moments after that Tetradore so paused to consider that life they had both shared, in some fashion or another, offering her a hint of advice, even if it was hardly wanted.

He was oblivious, in that moment, to just what she had wished of him in the wake of that affection he had provided her, his thoughts turned inwards far to much to even notice that hue of her cheeks. In fact, it wasn't even until that bitter sentence left her lips that his gaze refocused upon her with a hint of confusion. "What?" He inquired, this disbelief quite obvious within his tone. "Where the fuck did you get that idea?" He inquired, entirely baffled with the woman. What had she anticipated from him? To inform her that her lips were just as soft as he had through they would be? That she kissed him back with far more tenderness than he had ever anticipated of her? That thought he felt wrong doing this because of her relationship with Samantha, he wanted to press his lips back against hers all the same? Still, that simple sentence so quickly brought the were-King's eyes to her, the man aware, in that moment, of the near crimson hue to her otherwise pale features. He had embarrassed her? But...how? God damn it, she was so utterly vexing that it near frustrated him.

It was perhaps that which so saw him quickly change the topic, instead commenting on his own capability, rising from that bed to make his way to the dresser in the corner, rifling through the underwear and towards the false bottom. In truth, he was surprised by the garments she chose to clothe herself in. After all, she so often seemed nothing but business that he had merely considered whatever existed underneath to be cut of the same metaphorical fabric. Then again, perhaps her vampire had purchased them for her in the same fashion that Risque had taken complete control over his own wardrobe during his captivity. It was a topic he decided best not to touch, particularly when he strove to push her thoughts away from the vampire. Tetradore turned, those vials held delicately within his hands as his emerald eyes met the flustered blue of her own. It was perhaps no surprise, really, that her gaze had so wandered, that stare alone entirely reminding the man of that fact that he so often forgot - clothes. Within the were community, they'd become used to lacking them. He shifted ever so slightly in place, now acutely aware of everything his body gave away - every thought, every feeling, every reaction to every touch. Still, he could hardly simply stand there and, instead, Tetradore crossed the bedroom to lay those vials out before her.

That comment of that need of pants saw his features frown ever so slightly as he settled upon the bed, positioning himself in such a way as to present her with more of his profile then any full on view of that which she'd certainly already seen. "Sorry." He muttered simply enough, unsure of what she wished him to say. Rather, he listened to that sound of her plucking the top off one of those colored vials, downing the liquid with the ease of a shot that surely burned after. He heard that near gagging sound and yet, Tetradore hardly commented as his gaze drifted towards the bedsheet, his fingers fiddling with the comforter beneath him. He glanced up and towards her as she sighed softly, those words wholly unexpected. Slowly, the man nodded, "If you want me to...will you tell me about him?" He inquired, his eyebrows furrowed with clear thought and, perhaps a bit, discontent.