"Several, you say?" Zevran's face cracks in a wide, rakish grin as he leans a little into Lasulahn's space, copper eyes gleaming gold in the lantern light. "Oh but the worth and weight of a kiss, Stella, is determined by many things. Duration, location, passion, is it but lip to lip or is there a full embrace involved?"

Cheek propped in hand he swirls his drink in it's glass, eyes crinkling with delight. Fair as Lasulahn is, his skin blushes so beautifully. Like roses pinking through winter snow- and it is some manner of warning most of his mind ignores when he decides to go poetic in the slightest.

But, like many other red flags? He's walking past without much thought. This is the right thing to do and-

It's not so terrible a thing, following a lovely man. "Shall we write a contract to make this formal, or will a spoken agreement suffice?"