“Doesn’t she always?” Likewise, Phillip doesn’t take the conversation anywhere meaningful, a very gentle and fond ribbing of their friend being the most of it. He doesn’t eat much either, enough that he won’t starve through the night but the weight of both the exhaustion and the pending conversation (however cautiously optimistic he is about it) pull him to the bed before too long.

He allows himself to be pulled in with a smile, hand finding its familiar perch in Gustavain’s hair and smoothing gently through it. “Indeed,” he hums playfully, shifting the two of them close as he can get.

He’s quiet for a moment, looking over the man beside him and taking in the picture of him lounged on the bed, relaxed and impossible to resist despite everything. “I do love you,” he says softly, realizing now that that might not have been as painfully obvious as he’d thought it was.