"Do you think I'd say it if I didn't mean it? That I'd be here?"

Here, finding a place to toss his own jacket, already determined to kiss the frown off Armand's face (no matter how aesthetically pleasing it is). Daniel waits until Armand's done fussing with his clothes to head over and pull him close, head ducking to the open collar of his shirt, the skin revealed there.

"So I'll keep trying until I manage it again," he says. "See, I've got centuries to get it right."