His drink in hand, Toby whispers a small, "Thanks," to Dorian before taking a nice, long sip, closing his eyes, and savouring it. After swallowing, he takes another deep breath, tries to slow his breathing and just relax.

All right. Inwardly, he tells himself he can tackle this head-on, he could go right into it. He meets Dorian's gaze, his expression a cross between dire and regretful.

"So... Would it bother you at all that, after thinking I knew what was going on with you, I knew exactly where and to whom I wanted to go?"