Very rude and considerably uncouth, indeed. Liliana's call was interrupting a droningly boring audio book regarding wartime strategies when it came, threatening to lull Ignis into an early (and, in many ways, potentially merciful) sleep, when the phone in his hands started to buzz and vibrate, a second before the ringing tone that followed. A faint groan escaped him, preparing in that second for whatever panicked child-rearing disaster was about to come in from Prompto, before the voice announced to him the name of the caller.

Well.

Well, then. At first, he wondered if he should just let it go to voicemail, and then take the time to decide if it was wiser to wait to returning a response or not (and then, too, he would have a bit more than just the recording of her reciting her number for him than yesterday on hand should he suddenly feel himself so inclined to need to remember the precise notes and tones of her voice), but then reasoned that it seemed counterintuitive to pine for the sound of something when the press of a button could produce it in real time. And, so far, boldly leaning into his strongest...perhaps basest...instincts with regards to this...dalliance...had been working out quite well for him so far.

So he answered.

And let out a soft, amused huff when he did. "Well, I'd say you're off to a near perfect start so far," he reported, "but I suppose we shall just have to wait and see how things proceed from here."

Then, a brief pause, before he added, much softer, "How is your day, Liliana?"

And then, unable to help himself: "Just getting started?"