Terrence lifted his arm to wipe the slobber off onto the sleeve of his t-shirt. For his part, he definitely wasn't more tan, though he had recovered completely since he'd seen her last; if anything, he was in even stronger fighting shape than he'd been before. The Mark on his arm had faded to a red scar, and he had a few others from work now, a hairline scar near his temple, and another slash on one of his biceps. That was to say nothing of the marks Ella left on him, though the majority of those were under his clothes; the only real difference was the extra tender mark on his neck, from where she sank her fangs in to get her dinner.
"Don't blame you," he said, laughing at her comment about a lack of tan lines. "England's kind of boring, isn't it? I just moved to the middle of nowhere Ireland, actually, so I really don't blame you." He perched on the arm of the sofa, too energetic to really sink into it. "You could always move, too."