[ even as he wanders after her, body shifting away, he can't stop watching her, neck shifting so he can glance past his shoulder at her as she wanders around, comments on the apartment. ]

I think the living arrangements would be the least of my worries, if I were marked a submissive. [ he glances at her neck, this time specifically at the black line she's been marked with. It makes him irrationally angry, and it's irrational, selfish jealousy; not even on her behalf, but because she has the city's mark on her throat, but not his own.

that's Angelus, but Angel can't help but agree with the demon's feelings.

at her rather obvious segue, he waits for a moment expectantly, before he realizes she wants him to sit down first. not something he's used to doing, sitting before a lady in the room. he was a lout as a human, but he was raised with manners.

taking a seat in one of the chairs, he watches her. ]

Right. Not a social call. [ he can't quite hold back the bitterness in his voice, but frankly it's a lot less than he expected to come out, and - to him, at least - it's clear that it's mostly all self-directed. ]