Opium was wearing a thin little smirk as the door swung open, and it only grew as he looked over the young man in the doorway. He certainly was attractive, wasn't he? He almost reminded the old drug of the faces he used to surround himself with; somewhat classic. "My, my..." he hummed, walking into the room and clicking his cane against the floor. "In my days only working boys would greet a man at the door without a shirt on." He turned and pushed the door shut.
"I was sent with gifts," he added, a smoothness to his voice as he produced a bottle of vodka with a Russian label out of his pocket and set it just outside of College's reach, placing himself between the god and the bottle. From out of his pocket came a silver cigarette case and a book of matches, set next to the vodka, and then off slid his coat. "Smoke with me," he said simply as he tossed the coat over a chair and picked up the cigarette case, flipping it open to show a row of thick black paper cigarettes, the smell of lightly fermented tobacco and something stark, thick and sweet.