She stared back at him, his words filtering through her consciousness. He couldn't age. He had all the energy that she could ever need, and he could heal rapidly. He'd learned to control this other side of himself...and maybe he could help her do the same.
But could she trust him--and herself--enough to allow herself to be intimate with him an emotional level? Never mind a physical one. The physical connection would have to come, eventually, but she had to take it slow.
"It doesn't have to be sexual," she said softly, folding her hands in her lap. "My brother learned to feed while working as a hairdresser. It's never quite the same, and it's still...I'm told it tends to be an addictive experience for our...ah...donors. But it doesn't have to be sexual." She didn't know if she would ever be ready for that, now, no matter how badly her other half might want it.