Even though the sun had just recently set, Angel had been up for a few hours. He'd woken up early to give himself time to clean and polish his personal weapons collection that he kept on display by the door of the lobby; the weapons that were for his use and his use only, though Zuko had been known to grab an item or two out of there when he was in a hurry. This angered the vampire at first, but after finding that Zuko usually did a better polishing job on the weapon than he did after using it, he stopped giving the boy such a hard time about it. Not completely, but not as bad. The firebender still needed to learn how to ask.
He'd wandered into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of pig's blood from the fridge, having krept in silently and seemingly unnoticed in the way that master vampires had perfected over time. Not that he was a master vampire anymore, he hadn't been one in over a hundred years; those two times he reverted back to Angelus didn't count.
"It never does seem to make complete sense," he said in response to her question as he put his hand on the handle of fridge, assuming that she had noticed him and was thus speaking to him, "but a few things start to become tangible over time. You get used to it."