[He pauses. Oh. Vampires. As in, several of them. That was -- how many vampires could one man really know? And how in the gods's names had Hector moved around them and never gotten snacked on? That feels like the sort of inevitable end of that sort of... position.]

Well. Now you have very human fans. At least one.

[One that had no reservations to all but cuddling up against him, if that's what Hector wants. What's a bit of sad backstory between lovers? You know, if you ask him, it makes the necromancer even sexier. All that tragedy and he still can flush with the right compliment.

He leans in close to him, letting a hand fall onto Hector's thigh.] Ah, my favorite? You mean of my own? [Because of course his favorite song was one of his own, thank you. He's just that good. He makes a long hmm as he considers.

What is it, really? He thinks, of all of them, that his first real hit may be a favorite -- he certainly owes a great deal of his fame to it. But there is one thing that's bothered him.]

You know, it's a funny thing. I wrote a song before... before I was brought here. I never had a chance to perform it before this mess. Yet I think it may be my favorite, even if it's a bit maudlin. Her Sweet Kiss.

[Maudlin is putting it a bit lightly. His fingernails drag up Hector's thigh as he recites with a gentle, breathy tune, low enough that it's only for the two of them:]

I’m weak my love, and I am wanting /
If this is the path I must trudge /
I welcome my sentence /
Give to you my penance /
Garrotter, jury and judge...

[Those last lines had taken at least a day and a half, and he is very proud of it. Not bad for a quick rewrite after certain... hm. Events.

He smiles.] I should make you come listen when I finally perform it.