He's relieved that she's relieved, too, and still laughing.

"Ooh, well," he says with once again a series of sheepish expressions of the you don't wanna know kind, "messily, but I don't bite people. In general. Trust me, it's not romantic at all. Besides, I'm fine with other sources of blood, an' I only really need it to heal an' to just, y'know, keep living."

He counts off on his fingers. "Other things that aren't true: garlic, I love garlic, garlic bread is one of my favorite things; mirrors, I can see myself perfectly well, how d'ye think I put my fabulous outfits together every day; crucifixes, a symbol of centuries of religious oppression but they're not gonna burn me face off; sleepin' in a coffin, turnin' into a bat, fuck that nonsense; and....I think that's it. Oh, but sunlight, that's not good, not good at'all. I mean I can still go about outside, but I need to cover up every inch of skin, wear shades, sunscreen, all that. ...So. There ya have it."

That actually kind of felt good to get out of the way.