Jean-Claude meets the other man's gaze steadily as Daryl stalks his way back over to him and leans in close to glare at him. He is well over 600 years old, and he is not afraid of this shifter. Though he finds himself intrigued by him. And these days he is not so easily intrigued as one might think.
"Not in the way that you suggest," he replies, keeping his voice soft and just this side of sensual. He need not speak much louder, as they stand so close to one another now. "But I think you lie when you say that you do not think much of me. There must be some reason you spared me from your hunt." He gives the other man a once-over, which is really just a trailing of his eyes, standing as close as they are, before meeting the other man's once more, and continuing, his voice even lower than before. "And such a reason fascinates me, mon ami. As do you." He tilts his head to the side. "Or, should I say, mon chat."
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"Not in the way that you suggest," he replies, keeping his voice soft and just this side of sensual. He need not speak much louder, as they stand so close to one another now. "But I think you lie when you say that you do not think much of me. There must be some reason you spared me from your hunt." He gives the other man a once-over, which is really just a trailing of his eyes, standing as close as they are, before meeting the other man's once more, and continuing, his voice even lower than before. "And such a reason fascinates me, mon ami. As do you." He tilts his head to the side. "Or, should I say, mon chat."