"That's it?" Armand seems honestly surprised at Daniel's choice of question, phrased like the gentle investigative reporting of a pop culture magazine. But he also takes a moment to honestly consider it. He also doesn't remove his hand from down the front of Daniel's shirt, listening and feeling the thump of his heart, apparently happy to stay there for as long as Daniel will allow him.

"Mm," he hums, pensively. "Venice." So: none of the locations Daniel already knows him to haunt, instead a sliver of his previous life, a name, a city. The place where he was changed, where he knew love, and born again, and again, and again. Not because he loves it, the city, but because of what it was at that time. Shelter, inspiration, gateway. Because of what it means, what he became, why he will never go back.

"Paris is beautiful," he explains, falling back into that habit of explaining to Daniel. "I was at home there. But it was just a city. Venice.. was everything."