Daimon took another sip of wine. He looked thoughtful, as if he had something new on his mind that would contribute to this conversation. Before they could reach the awkward stage of silence, he ran his fingers through his hair, then lowered it to drum his fingertips against the tabletop before he casually asked, "Do you want a relationship?" Up until this point, Daimon had been careful not to call it such. Maybe all the evidence pointed to exactly that--who was he kidding, it did--and this night confirmed it. Daimon Hellstrom was smitten, and he wasn't sure he could blame it on a witch's spell this time. He chuckled. "Mm, a relationship with me, to be specific."