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"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Elias. You can call me Xan, I don't respond to Alexander,” he said with a smile and a quick once over as Xan finally took a moment to look the other over. The slight smirk that appeared as quickly as it vanished spoke of him liking what he saw. <br/>
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Xan gave a nonchalant shrug in answer to Elias’ question as he settled on the bottle of Irish whiskey in his hand, “Perhaps once before, but the dead don’t care for such things.“ Whether his supposed significant other was truly dead or not, Xan didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, they were dead to him. He didn’t have a name, a memory of a face, or anyone turning up at the hospital claiming to know him. He didn’t even know why he was still wearing the blasted thing. There was no sentimental value, no emotional connection. “I don’t know why I still wear it,” he muttered, as he found two tumblers and poured them both generous helpings. <br/>
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His pale green gaze flickered pointedly down to the man’s own wedding band. “How about yourself, have a spouse waiting for you back home?” It was something of a disappointment, the presence of that ring on the man’s finger. Xan did many things many saw as immoral, but he didn’t make a habit of pursuing individuals who were already spoken for. Otherwise he would be sorely tempted to gauge whether the other would be interested in going back to his room to help pass some time.<br/>
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It wasn’t long before another presence joined the two men. “There’s plenty of seats,” Xan called out to the pacing woman. “Pull up a chair,” he invited, neither confirming or denying whether he worked there or not, “drinks are on the house.” <br/>
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