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I have to bite back a laugh because he’s unbearable and, unfortunately for my self-control, adorable.

Rei glares at him. “They’re for me. Stop stealing my food.”

“I wasn’t stealing. I was quality testing. And they failed.”

Dimitri’s eyes narrow at the box. “I thought only I cook for you.”

Rei straightens a little, clearly delighted by the effect he’s having. “My brother makes me cookies.”

Dimitri looks like he’s genuinely about to pout. “Okay. I’ll learn and make them better.”

And because I enjoy my own bad habits, and because Ilya’s standing right there pretending not to feel me from across the room, I let my gaze settle on him and say, loud enough for everyone to hear:

“I missed you, prince. Why have you been ignoring me?”

Ilya’s eyes go wide. Rei and Dimitri both look between us, curious but not suspicious. Just… interested.

Ilya opens his mouth and then closes it again, as if his brain has temporarily lost the ability to work, but then he recovers. “Stop talking bullshit. To ignore you, I’d have to acknowledge you, and I don’t.”

His face is just a little too flushed now. His hands are clenched at his sides, and his breathing is faster than it should be.

Dimitri definitely notices something’s off, but he’s too interested in the idea of a cookie competition to say anything.

I watch Ilya scramble for the subject change almost before he’s done speaking.

He whips around toward Rei with the speed of a man fleeing a fire and says, “Anywayyyy, Raiii, how are you feeling?”

Raiii.

Not Rei.

I’ve noticed this before. Ilya gets my brother’s name wrong with religious consistency, and at this point I’m convinced it’s deliberate.

Rei, who absolutely notices and allows it because he enjoys selective chaos, rolls his eyes. “You know that’s not my name.”

Ilya waves a hand. “Details. You still answer.”

“Unfortunately.”

“You love me.”

Rei deadpans, “I tolerate your existence because Dimitri loves you.”

Dimitri snorts. “Barely.”

“Cruel. Both of you are cruel. Here I am, showing up, radiating warmth, generosity, beauty—”

“Thievery,” Rei cuts in, glancing at the cookie box.

“That too,” Ilya says with no shame at all. “And this is the thanks I get? Slander? Disrespect? A complete lack of appreciation for my presence?”

“Yes,” Rei and Dimitri say in unison.

Ilya clutches his chest. “I’m wounded. Mortally wounded. I may never recover.”

I lean back and watch him.

Because even when he’s not looking at me, I know when he’s aware of me.