He feels a terrible urge to cover the ends of his ears at such a comment, but decides to hide in what precious little remains of his cordial instead. "Someone might've mentioned it once," he mumbles shyly.

For a moment, he regards Zevran's pretty eyes over the rim of his cup, the way they seem to gleam golden with his amusement, and then finishes the rest of his drink. Normally he is not half so bold. Maybe it's the alcohol. Either way, he leans enough to press a quick, chaste kiss to the other elf's cheek, and sits back in his chair. The act does nothing to help his blushing, and he notices just how warm the room suddenly feels.

"Well, I wouldn't wish to disregard your customs. Your work comes highly regarded, in any case."