"If only it were so simple," he muses, watching her more intently when her gaze falls.

This is dangerous territory for him, he knows. He cannot help himself, even after all these centuries. The memory of dark hair and emerald eyes falls across his sight, and he closes his eyes, trying to hold onto her fleeting image just for another moment.

It's gone as quickly as it came, and he sighs in frustration.

"Tell me what you want from me," he growls, and whether the question is of the ghost or the woman, it's unclear.