[ A fucking queer, Kirill will say, spluttering and pushing the other man away, starting to hurl insults and violence at him. He has always been a hypocrite that way. Nikolai stares at the hand held out towards him, and he chuckles, very softly.
(Odd, really, how much he has been thinking of Kirill. Most times he doesn't even bother thinking about that man, when he's in a different place. Now he's in a different different place, and London's vor doesn't seem to want to leave his mind.)
Nikolai takes the hand, lifts it, and turns his own around until his tattoos are showing. ]
Very nice of you to offer umbrella to strangers. [ More dryness. ] Everyone gets same treatment, or I am special today?
[ As always, there's impertinence in his tone, and the faintest trace of insult. ]
no subject
(Odd, really, how much he has been thinking of Kirill. Most times he doesn't even bother thinking about that man, when he's in a different place. Now he's in a different different place, and London's vor doesn't seem to want to leave his mind.)
Nikolai takes the hand, lifts it, and turns his own around until his tattoos are showing. ]
Very nice of you to offer umbrella to strangers. [ More dryness. ] Everyone gets same treatment, or I am special today?
[ As always, there's impertinence in his tone, and the faintest trace of insult. ]