He steps inside, pausing to let the door close behind him. Trapped with a monster. He should be at least a little terrified. It's only human. But the pulse under Alucard's hand is perfectly steady. He has no reason to feel afraid of this man.

His hand goes up to lightly pat it. "You would say that, wouldn't you? It's nothing a good ironing won't fix right up."

He doesn't miss the rather empty state of the room nor the rumpled state of the couch. He quietly heaves the sigh of all butlers everywhere, as if to say 'what am I to do with you'. That steely pass of the room returns to the taller man and he almost smiles. It's still hard for him, even harder when he's all buttoned up and proper. If he's gone for his most severe crisp suit, it's purely for his own comfort. Double breasted and pitch black from waistcoat to double Windsor knotted tie, he's flawless. Everyone has their armor and at the moment, Alfred is in full plate. Another small hint of how much that place rattled him.

"And when's the last time you had yourself a proper bath? From the looks of it, that couch's seen more action than a Bond Movie these last few." He's one to talk. He's yet to truly sleep and when he does, it's sitting up in a chair with a gun in arms reach. "How about I make you a cuppa. I'll run you a nice bath and we'll see if we can't get you feeling more like yourself."