Vladimir's head tilted to the side, curious as to why Améa would hide her face from him. Had he overstepped his bounds? His muscles were wound taut for a moment as he berated himself internally. You stupid man, this is folly. For once, however, Vladimir was able to quell away that voice inside his head. This was especially so after Améa looked back at him, cheeks pink, expressing that all was well. It was the highest compliment a musician could receive, at least in Vladimir's opinion, that one's music was able to transport someone far away from their troubles and aches, their pains and suffering. On a journey of joy, peace, reflection, or of romance, it was all the same. "Thank you," he replied, a smile coaxing to his lips. "It is what a musician strives for, and I accept nothing less than perfection."
That, at least, was most certainly true. When he played, he could forget about his own trials and tribulations, and in that perfection of sound and silence he could forget his own imperfections.
His mind had been churning through his repertoire to select yet another piece to play for for, when Améa began to add more to her previous sentiments, and the man fell into a stone silence, eyes fixated on her. Always I am yours. Gah, that made his heart beat a little faster in his chest even though he shouldn't have let it do so. She meant so much to him, more than just the simple bond of protector that had begun this whole scenario. More than simply being another body, another guard for the home, to keep the occupants safe from harm. He wanted to tell her what he harboured within, badly, but there was never the time nor place.
Thankfully as Améa continued to speak, it brought all of his focus to the speech rather than his thoughts, especially with the serious with which she spoke.
Something that he could not refuse? Whatever it was demanded his fullest attention, and the man quickly settled in to set his cello down into its case for protection. And when it was set aside, he sat forward slightly, eyes boring into Améa's. What could she possibly not want him to refuse? There were so many possibilities, but he did not want to ponder on some of them - they would make his heart do strange things again, and this he could not handle. Not with his emotions as charged as they were.
That plan came crashing down when Améa told him what she wanted.
It was an almost dangerous request. Vladimir did not fear hurting her physically or mentally - heavens above knew he'd do anything to keep her safe. But with feeding came emotions, charged and ready. He'd taken of her blood once before, and the sorceress' blood was the most intoxicating he'd ever had. But with it lent him the power to be closer to Améa. He could pinpoint her location, talk through their mental connection with more ease. And, of course, his dhampiric nature approved of the blood as a fuel to keep his powers strong and healthy. But even with all of those pros, he feared that if he took more blood from her, he would fall into a hole of love and affection that he couldn't get out of, even if he tried. Even if he found out that she would want Zane again. He'd been down the hole of having his heart crushed beneath a heel, he wasn't so sure he could do it again.
But Améa was different.
"I have begun to lose my guilt over desiring your blood," Vladimir admitted quietly. "And I know to feed from you causes no harm. But yet I worry. You know that feeding is an... intimate action." She had been with a full vampire after all, of course she would know what feeding would do to his emotions. "To feed from you will-" Vladimir caught himself, poised on a confession, but it slipped regardless. Out with it. "It will augment what already churns within." And there it was.
"I will feed from you, yes, with your permission always... but I need for you to know that what lies within is not based on... base instinct or want alone. But rather, as you have already told me, if you are mine always, then so am I yours. If this you can accept, that you accept me, then I will feed from you at will."