[it's comments like these viktor probably shouldn't find attractive, but he does. he at least is confident it is not the violence that appeals so much as the conviction, and allows himself to tip pal's head for a kiss.

'love and legacy are the price we pay for progress,' singed chooses to tell him like a reminder, at least in his own neutral tones instead of some unholy mix. viktor breaks the kiss with an annoyed grimace.]

You owe her nothing. [he agrees, refusing to glance at her or singed this time around, fingers tight around pal's.

a sigh and he flops his head back against the couch again, tensing but ignoring the creak of singed's chair as he stands, despite having no weight to burden the chair with. he footsteps tap in an idle circle of the room, as if he owns it, comfortable. so far nonviolent.]

Maybe- [his jaw works before saying,] when I last saw him I told him I understood a matter I have since changed my mind on. Perhaps that is it? I do not know what there is to be said about it, or to reflect on. I had assumed I did my reflection without the Trench holding my hand through it.