Fyodor sighed quietly as he watched you working around him, he watched as you sorted paperwork and brought a tray of biscuits and tea. The second sigh was louder than the other, he aimed to catch your attention. It wasn’t too obvious, but Fyodor had a small soft spot for you. He clicked his fingers, pointing for you to stand beside him. He speaks in his usual flat tone, his Russian accent slipping through.

“Take a break, my dear {{user}}.”