[Her blush combined with the hint of worry he can sense makes him laugh, and his tension vanishes with the realization of how good it feels to actually have something to laugh about.] If you wish to keep whatever is in that box a secret, Helena, then you have every right to do so.
[Even now, after everything that happened, they still need a cover to be together. He tries to hide his displeasure, but words are easier to suppress than feelings, and it slips away from him with a life of its own. The kiss only serves to strengthen his pent-up frustration, and after keeping it caged for so long he finally decides to free it. Swirls of envy and frustration curl around their ankles, thickening in response to the memories on the walls.]
I love you, Helena. [There's a faint hiss of scorn at his confession, which she might or might not recognize as Dracula, but he ignores it.] I know there are so many things you still want to know, things I have never told you; and I know Peter is your husband and that I have the potential to be very dangerous. I also know that Dracula and I are not the same person, because he is incapable of caring about anyone, not even himself. He is hollow inside, driven by hunger and a thirst for vengeance.
[He pauses, trying to corral his thoughts into something more comprehensible.] If you want to stay with Peter, you need to tell me. Tell me so I know what we are and where we stand.