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"You've reached the inbox of one Dorian Gray. Don't forget to leave me a message. If you're interesting, I'll get back to you."

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"Oh, now there's where I have some practice. Sophie and James were very dear friends after they'd kindly rejected me."

He treasured those friendships, despite the broken heart they'd left in their wake.

"I'll speak to him, Dorian. I'm no hypocrite."

"Good," Dorian says, with a nod. Though Sophie and James? He hadn't heard those names before. It's odd how he knows so much and yet so little about Crozier.

"And I hope that he decides the two of you would make a lovely couple—because you would. You're adorable like that."

"Kind of you to say so." Lord knows it's not in the cards, but he would cherish that man if he could.

He takes another sip of his coffee, pointedly not burning his tongue.

"Did you speak to Pagan?"

An awkward paaaaaaaause.

"Um. Not yet."

He smiles easily. "We don't have to talk about it, it's fine."

"Thank you," Dorian sheepishly admits. "I'll do it eventually. It's just...well, it's hard, you know?"

"I absolutely know what you mean."

Considering...well, all of this.

"Look at us," Dorian points out, with a small chuckle. "Two old men, still bloody rubbish at expressing their feelings."

"I'm beginning to suspect all old men are built this way. It'd be humorous if it wasn't so damn tragic."

He gets up to set his coffee cup into the sink.

"But at least we still have feelings. That's something, isn't it?"