A pregnant pause greets the declaration. Phonos asked for a restaurant and a time. Melinoe is providing both in her own way, even if her apartment is not entirely what he had in mind. His thoughts can't help but drift back to their time in the elevator together, to her bed in her apartment, to what could happen if they should get carried away and succumb to temptation again. Part of him wants it, part of him knows to stay away from it.

"Very well," he offers finally, simply. He waits a beat for her to say more. When she doesn't, Murder simply hangs up the phone. Normally he would not be so curt, there would be goodbyes and patience. But his patience has been running thin since his blood was made to boil. Helenus' presence there was a gift, doing the most benefit to return him to his normal state of mind.

Phonos does his best to push the thoughts away, to focus on his work until the time. He succeeds quite well until he departs from his job. Then the spirit- the man has nothing left to do but think as he walks back to the apartment, as he showers and gets dressed. A pair of slacks, a dark gray button-down, a belt.

It's eight o'clock precisely when he knocks on Melinoe's door, bottle of dark syrah in hand. He has no intention of getting drunk again, but Phonos has learned enough of polite custom to offer a bottle of wine. It's the least he can do to act like this isn't a talk to end whatever this is before it begins.