So he had someone to shop for him... then he was the sort of creature that needed to eat. For what other purpose would a Phantom need to shop? So that scratched the actual ghost element entirely. A true ghost would not need to eat. A vampire would need blood. It was looking more like something involving eternal youth.

Gansey touched the back of one of the chairs. There were two. Having two meant that there was a reason for two. For if the Phantom was always alone, why would he expect to need more than one? Curious.

At the mention of wine Gansey was distracted from his thoughts. Glancing toward the wine rack, he almost said that he wasn't much a fan of drinking, but then remembered his circumstances. He went to the wine rack.

Scanning the bottles, he selected a rich red wine that seemed like it would go nicely what the Phantom had cooked. The thought almost made him laugh—the Opera Ghost had cooked a meal, and they would be sharing it together, along with some wine.

Popping open the bottle, rest it on the table, allowing it a few minutes to breathe before he poured it.

"A state of being is still not a name."