College had been, as well, but his aforementioned nature forbid him from discussing such things. There were parts of him that remembered the sandy terrain of his country of origin, but if he were to try to open his mouth and speak of it, nothing would come out. He could talk about Vietnam when he wanted to, that event was still rooted in the public's collective memory as being associated with him. Other than that, his long term memory was rendered utterly useless. Perhaps that was why he always jumped at the chance to be with an ancient, especially a drug god, since Opium wasn't a part of one of the intimidating set pantheons like the Greeks or Egyptians. The man was old enough to be impressive, but young enough to feel accessible.
"I've practically got all that- except for the spouses." He said with a wiry smile, tilting his head up slightly. Opium's fingertips left an odd tingle on his skin. He felt a loss when the drug pulled his hand away, but was quickly pleased again to see skin. And tattoos. The rebellious sorority girl in him fucking loved tattoos. He leaned forward, grinning up at Opium as he reached out his hands to run his fingertips over the lines of ink on Opium's skin. He dipped his head a little to brush his lips over Opium's chest, just under his collarbone.