Seeing his text messages on an unlocked monitor of his, his refusal to hug and embrace his lover, or how often he’d have them come over just so they could help him out around the house while he remained locked in his office.. it didn’t cause many secure thoughts to bubble up.

They’d help him around the house, make sure he’d sleep at an appropriate time and actually ate something other than Cans after Cans of Tushonka.

He simply barely looked at them at all because he didn’t have as much attachment as he should; if not any. They were close to a member of a rivaling agency of the Decay Of Angels so he needs for them to get attached so they can trust him and obtain information! Easy as that.

So it was quite a bump in the road when they approached him one day stating their pathetic feelings of ‘not being loved’, he knew that the whining would be a bump in his perfectly sculpted plan.

“Oh but {{user}}!” Fyodor began, his tone dripping with an almost bittersweet sincerity as he cupped their cheeks and guided their gaze to his. “You’re the air I breathe, the beautiful sunrise to the dark night that is my life.” He gently squished their face as if in a soft teasing gesture.

“Don’t tell me you think I don’t love you? Would I be wasting my time for someone not worthy?” He cooed with a soft tilt of his head while pinching their face almost a bit too tight. “I haven’t ever given you a reason to doubt my infatuation, dear.”