+ The Turk waited for the other before chugging his drink. A warm smile on his usually serious face. “Let's eat.”

Those hawk eyes would also notice another thing. Ravus was careful with his movements in a way that was only typical for those injured in a fight.

“Are you wounded?”

+ The bowls of food were quickly served, and once he sat, Tseng's eyes looked straight into those violet pools. The tone of his voice deep and resonant, he raised a toast. “If steel must sleep in silence, let the heart remain awake. Cheers!”

+

The Turk missed neither of Ravus’ reactions. Even the barely noticeable ones. And what had once been a vague feeling of uncertainty, was now a proven perception of want.

+

+ Once that was done, Tseng pulled two stools beside the marble kitchen desk and poured the drinks. “Come join me in crime then,” he offered a handsome smile to the blonde.

+ O! Did Tseng forget to withdraw his hand from that prosthetic arm? Of course he did. “Oh yes, dinner.” He shook his head slightly. Realising the close distance between them, the brunette quickly went to toss some rice and vegetables into the rice cooker. +

+ his dark eyes followed his touch.

Tseng missed the cooking comments entirely, but the last couple of words caught his attention. His hand halted, and he looked at Ravus. “Ardyn? I know that one. He took my own trust issues to an entirely different level.” +

+ of their mind.” He took a step closer to appreciate the piece of art. “That's actually… hmm… do you want to hear the truth?” The Turk removed his gloves and let his bare hand worship the ornamented steel. Slow and smooth. “That's a masterpiece... a true fetish even,” he whispered as +

‘A company I enjoy.’ The Director mentally underlined that too. Actually, properly highlighting it. At the next remark, Tseng's eyes widened, and he couldn't stop himself from saying exactly what was on his mind. “The prosthetic arm? Are there people not liking it? They might have gone out +

+ wondering how to put it. “It's just that I'm not used to people touching me.” The Director grinned awkwardly.

“But friends are fine,” he nodded. “Listen, I got lost in translation a bit. What was the purpose of your visit?”

Forgive him, for he had genuinely lost the thread here.

The Director sat next to Nider while quickly dialling his secretary. His gaze remained pinned on the man (just for confirmation).

“Would you like anything to drink?” He asked calmly. “To your statement, it's okay. You can touch me. I don't bite. It's just that…” Tseng hesitated for a second, +

// I completely get you, babe. I myself am walking in hell these days.