Isn't it so very ironic that you say this after you've tried to drown me, or so I heard?

(he knows some. he barely needs the full story, but from the little crumbles, he can make the rest as clear as day. the look he gives fyodor is no different from the ones he's given in the glass box he was inhabiting, a hand under his chin with his fingers gently hovering, delicate and lean.)

That's the nicest thing you have ever said to me. ♥

(he's not even moving towards the soup. that was nice, he's laughing to himself.)