Milo's eye lingered, not only on the man's exposed body but the scars as well. Milo didn't comment on them and gave the courtesy of not even asking. That was the other man's business, not his. He pushed off of the counter, grabbing the clothes he'd set on the couch. Some smaller sweat pants he hadn't worn in forver and a t shirt is what Milo managed to find for him and even then they'd probably still be bigger on him. He held the clothes out, taking a big sip from his mug, almost as if to taunt the man.<br/><br/>He felt pity. It was awful having to grasp the new reality of being turned and even harder still to stomach the thought of having to drink blood. "You're only going to make it harder on yourself if you keep resisting. You have to eat sometime." He stated. He wasn't going to force the man, but he wasn't going to to be the red head's personal chew toy if he lost control either. At least Milo could take some solace in the fact that they were away from the city where people could be hurt.