[ He snickers a little and rolls his eyes at the very notion. His 'type'? Gods. But the look of exasperation subsides as he considers her question. More precisely, how to answer. ]

I have someone much of the same, yes.

[ Emet-Selch looks at the table in silence. It's almost as though his entire presence begins to warm at the thought of those he cares about, from his posture to the look on his face. Sentimental, nostalgic, something only real love weathered by the ages could provide. There is a time in his youth when he lacked the words to comment on it, but years have given him time to think. ]

Talented, reckless, eloquent, and beautiful - as much of a force of nature as the wind itself.

We promised that when our lives were at an end, we would return to the Star with one another so that we may spend our eternal rest in each other's company.

I cannot bring myself to break that promise.