Perfection in a glass meant a nice, strong smell that tingled the nose. When it went down, it was smooth and strong with a dense sort of texture and it cooled the palette while warming up your insides. The taste was an entirely different matter and the scotch was expensive and aged to the best it could be. A nice glass of this, not having to do anything, maybe some milk chocolate and a day without problems were other things he considered perfect. All together they were like heaven.
Blaise finished off half the glass before moving. "Alright, I'll show you around the rest." He held his drink as he lead the way, first showing the room that held a desk with a tiny stack of organized papers. Blaise didn't like mess either and thus it seemed completely clean without a stray quill or drop of ink. The walls were lined with shelves which were full with books.
"I guess you could call this a study," he said, flicking his eyes around the room and waiting a moment or two before he moved on. "Here's the dining room," he pointed off to the side where a room held a large, oak table and six chairs. There was a chandelier and windows overlooking the pool outside. Then he went to the other side of the house, where the rooms were kept.
There were only two right now and he showed the spare bedroom that actually held a bed and an armoire. The only room left was his.
Blaise opened the door and stepped inside, nodding. It was a simply decorated room with the large, white bed, and few to no decorations. But he found it just fine. "This is my room," he said and pointed to the side, "and there's the bathroom. There's a guest one over near the kitchen, too."