[For once, Mukuro wasn't wholly focused on picking apart the priest's facial expressions, instead resting his forehead against the coolness of the table, eyes fluttering shut with a soft sigh. It felt nice, and he couldn't be too annoyed at the priest's completely normal state while he suffered if it meant that the priest was going to take care of him.]

It's been ages since I bothered being in a mortal body, much less drinking.

[He turned so that his cheek was pressed against the table, blanket a hood over his undoubtedly ridiculous bed head, expression soft and strangely vulnerable as he watched the priest bustling around the kitchen.]

I suppose I'll have to get used to drinking to keep up with you priest.

[And perhaps, far more pressing because his stomach was growling:]

What are you making?