He's done a fair bit of sleeping in this week, which he only does when he's sulking, even though he came back from what he darkly calls the other clean-up at least somewhat more reconciled to Eiffel's departure. He's not obviously in a bad way, just - holing up, a little bit, like a small animal in the winter, spending his small store of emotional energy mostly on checking in with Justine, or staying weird hours in the Engine room, then curling up in bed playing tap games on his slate, wrapped up in blankets. But the delight of dinner is still too novel to be easily cast aside, so Hakkai can reliably expect him to emerge for it.

He wraps an arm around Hakkai's waist, face tipped up for the kiss, then presses it against Hakkai's chest for a moment.

"Course," he mumbles.