[The sincerity in itself is what spooks Benedict, who gives a little anxious flip of his hair as an excuse to look away.]

What does that mean, [he mutters, both a bit sardonic and genuinely curious, as much as he'd hate to admit it.

Strange how existing for so long outside the vipers' pit has allowed him to grow a personality that no longer revolves (as much) around hedonism and substance-induced dissociation.

But that was his whole charm, wasn't it?]