The Socialite flushed bright red in the matter of seconds, a breath in steadying their heart. He straightened and coughed, adjusting his collar. "Well, as delicious as they may be, I would ask that you take me to dinner first. ... In your dreams, I mean. I-I'm certain you wouldn't eat my eyes after an evening out, surely." He muttered something that sounded very much like, "But I would not be opposed..."