Ah, yes, Dietre was likely the most polite killer in New York. The deaths on his hands had never risen any guilt within him, until now. A bright, bubbling girl like this...She'd recoil away from him, snatch back her soft hand as if he were a burning coal if she knew he was a murderer. Vincent knew, though Dietre hadn't actually said it out loud, but there was no way the man couldn't know, yet he still accepted him. The boy doubted it could be the same with Aurora. He could picture the hurt on her face, like when he snapped at her, except a thousand times worse, if she found out what he was. Well...she'd never know. He'd be careful, he'd be good, she won't find out, and she'd still smile at him.
"I'll try not to be, as much.." A sort of empty promise, there was no way he couldn't be hard on himself, it was just the way he was.
"Oh, but you don't have to..We don't actually have to find him, I mean..Just know what floor the apartment is on. I have a key, he left it for me." Oh my, he had a key already? Must be pretty serious! If he even knew what it sounded like he was saying, he'd be beyond embarrassed. Luckily he was a little dense when it came to anything that was even remotely associated with sex and relationships.
Was it rude to refuse an offer of refreshments? He wasn't sure...He was so used to going days without eating, his breakfast this morning had seemed like a bountiful feast.
"Uh...water?" No, no. Manners. "Please. Thank you."