To say he was surprised was to say the very least. No one had hugged him since his grandmother passed on, and as such, he was speechless for several long moments, his mouth slightly open and his dark eyes wide. Yes, that had been a surprise, but his visions didn't warn him of every little thing. Sometimes he wished they would. When he found his voice again, he cleared his throat.
"You do not need to do either," he said. "It will happen like this: you have met, and you will not acknowledge the attraction at first, but over time, it will be. As for surprising me, you just did. My family are not proponents of physical affection. If I seem stiff, that is why."
He would not apologize. The very public one he'd made in the journals was a rare occurrence. Sorin did not believe in apologies. They did nothing for him.
Quickly, he changed the subject. "If you could know one thing about the future, what would it be, and why?"