Cersie couldn't help but brim with a bit of pride in himself for the way the other lavished him with attention with just his eyes. The warm water was soothing to him. His body reacted to temperatures, but he didn't get cold or hot in the sense of someone who would get heat stroke or hypothermia. Temperatures simply felt nice. When Utaa borught over cleaning supplies, he grabbed a bar of soap for himself and proceeded to wash himself. Usually rain was the only thing he had to wash himself; he couldn't afford much things beyond supplies to make his own glass. He hadn't given Iseulith anything beyond his blood and body. He was tempted to make him something, and shortly got lost in his own thoughts in part as the ancient answered his questions.<br/><br/>His brow furrowed. Language of dragons, huh? He hadn't been around long enough to hear the language, let alone learn it. His secret ability contained that most powerful of creatures, his truest form, but he couldn't speak draconic, because he wasn't a dragon. He was a wind elemental. "It's a beautiful language," he said, masking his face. How he wanted to show the other; he didn't like being frightened, and his heart leaped in his chest when Iseulith pinned him against the edge of the tub. Cersie's face lined with guilt. The vampire was right. He was being overly paranoid. Mark...what mark? No, Iseulith hadn't done much of anything to him, but he knew better than to trust vampires.<br/><br/>So no, he still didn't trust him. "I won't deny that it's nice to see you have some humility left in you, but no, I'm not going to rub that moment of weakness in your face," he said, mildly on the defensive. He was cornered, and it made his hackles rise. His eyes widened just a bit when Iseulith leaned in. He looked like he might bite his face, but instead there was just the mere press of lips against his own. Words, then another kiss, and more guilt filled him. But he didn't speak. Instead he listened. Was Iseulith speaking the truth? Did he really not want to leave? Was he just afraid he'd like it. When Iseulith fondled him in the water, his breath stuttered and his heart skipped a beat.<br/><br/>But then he was gone. In truth, he was afraid. He was afraid because the other was so devastingly beautiful and powerful and frightening. He'd enjoyed much of what the vampire had done to him. Cersie reached out to card a hand through his hair, the soap forgotten, then watched as Iseulith dunked into the water. He didn't think there was much of a point to say anything while he was submerged mostly in water. The elemental frowned when he winked at him, and then he was under water. Fortunately the elemental didn't actually need to breathe, as breathing was quite difficult when inside a tornado or hurricane. But it still startled him, and he glared at the vampire.<br/><br/>He was more annoyed than angry. The other was arrogant and a show off, but he supposed he had every right to be. When guided upwards, he swam flawlessly, breaching the water, which for all the world smelled real. Looked real. Until he looked up and saw endless stars and galaxies above his very eyes. He was captivated by its beauty. Utterly enthralled. After a few moments he looked over at him, having remained silent up until this point. "I suppose you find yourself amusing," he teased, trying to lighten the mood. The first time he'd experienced such a change he had been frightened because he hadn't been able to escape.<br/><br/>And yet Iseulith had offered him every opportunity to leave, and here he was. Unmoving. After Iseulith had fallen in a moment of weakness, he felt he owed him some of his inner thoughts. "I am afraid. You know my previous experiences with vampires hasn't been very appealing, and my first impression of you is still raw. You are powerful, ancient. You shower me with affection and lure me into these magnificent places with promises beyond my wildest dreams." He closed his eyes, and wind came when called. Fascinating. Was it Iseulith's blood in his veins that let him conjure what felt so real to him?<br/><br/>The wind was warm, the sea realistically chilly to the skin. When Iseulith spoke of darker, more sinister things, he laughed. It wasn't kind. "Mind reader. Indeed. My fantasies typically lie with the darker scheme of things. What's the fun in exploring the world when you can render it to pieces? Earth is my weakness, but without it I wouldn't have anything to create. Mother Nature taught us the four elements were all in balance with one another, and to tip that balance would breed unspeakable things. Centuries of mending, and the destruction on any of us who would break Her laws. I get pleasure in what destruction I'm allowed, as controlled as I'm allowed..." He shrugged, then swam closer to Iseulith.<br/><br/>"You spoil me, yet I have little to offer in return," he muttered. Gripped the other suddenly, he decided to surprise him instead by lifting him out of the water, in the air with current of wind around him. He wasn't holding him so much as supporting him as the wind carried them upwards, where in real life it would almost be impossible to breathe due to the atmosphere. But neither of them were remotely human. Yet here everything was so very, very different. "I'm most at ease up in the skies. Watching over the beautiful planet that my Mother made. Here everything is so different. It's fascinating." And frightening, but he'd already admitted that, hadn't he?