John chuckled as he walked over to his guitar, picking it up off the stand. The air between them even tasted clearer, and it left a slight bounce in his step.
The indirect question earned the gothic man a smirk, and John settled back on the stool, shrugging on the shoulder strap and giving the strings and experimental strum. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sound, feeling more like himself than he had in a short while. "Nah. Perfectly broken in, I'll be good for a while," he responded. The question had reminded him of the kind his sire asked, and he'd learned to return the vagueness in kind.