Sight

Beauty was what attracted him. He'd always had an eye for what was aesthetically pleasing, and, in fact, was likely to feel faint when forced into close proximity with what he considered to be ugly—beneath him. He, himself, was near beauty incarnate. Nothing else would do. Even he, however, was forced to admit that beauty could be found in the damndest of places.

Sound

He had always appreciated the lilting and seductive airs of music. It was a form of beauty, more abstract, and yet utterly transfixing. He fancied himself an expert at judging musicality—he was a tough critic indeed. He was, naturally, rather shocked when a voice whispering his name filled him with the same rush that was typically provoked by a stirring symphony.

Touch

Sensuality had always intrigued him. The power that one could wield over the bodies of others was intoxicating in its mastery. Temptations of the flesh had always come easy to him. He was, therefore, quite perplexed when a mere brushing of skin on skin made his cheeks flush and his speech falter.

Smell

He had never before understood the absurd notion that every person had a unique scent to them. Perfumes and colognes were so prevalent in society, he knew for a fact, that people must assume that the bottled elixir was natural. He had never known, however, a perfume that could bottle so expertly the smell of sunshine, pine, and sweetness.

Taste

He freely admitted—his palate was very hard to please. He would only allow the best food to adorn his table and the richest wine to fill his cup. Nothing interested him for long, however, and he was always on the look-out for the next delicacy. Oddly enough, he had been obsessed with the same taste—fresh and light, yet heady and cloying—for what seemed like ages now. It was all too peculiar.