[In this instance, no reaction is about the best that Liem could have hoped for, so he feels at least some small measure of relief when Ciel takes the information without any obvious misgivings. He rests a hand on his hip, resigned for the moment to telling her what she wants to know. He can handle practical questions about his diet and habits as long as she doesn’t ask anything too personal.]

It’s a little better then, or any other time I’m not required to be out in direct sunlight.

[No matter how thoroughly he layers his clothing or how dark his glasses are, being out in daylight always manages to make him feel at least a little disoriented. It goes beyond simply being dazzled in bright light; the touch of the sun feels distractingly hostile. But the shelter of a roof or even thick enough tree cover is enough to solve that issue.]

And I eat regular food. [His tone is firm. Final.] I don’t need to drink human blood.

[Every time he ends up drinking anyway, he always tells himself it’s going to be the last time, that next time he’ll be able to resist—but he’s been doing so well lately. The last time he’d drunk from a human has to have been years ago at this point. He doesn’t need to worry about how easy it would be to find a willing donor in this sin-filled city. He doesn’t. He’s stronger than that.]

So I don’t.