[ Viktor shifts, not quite wanting to lose this contact. Afraid, ridiculously, that if he loses track of Emet-Selch's hands now, all that permeating cold will escape him, as well. It is not that he fears coming undone again - no, he is stitched into place once more. The sun of his soul burns deathly cold into Light even now. What he fears is losing the utter certainty, the inviolate proof of Hades's love.

Viktor repositions Emet-Selch's hand to cup his cheek, shuts his eyes and leans into the contact. ]

I would not complain if- if you decided I s-seemed so weak- [ He musters enough energy for a bit of theatrics, but he needn't. His voice is reedy enough. ] -that you thought it best to feed me your fancy cheeses yourself.

[ He flashes a grin, which serves only to make him look more tired for how much dimmer it is than usual. His strength is steadily returning, though, and his head clear enough to consider what's just transpired. His gaze falls, finally, thoughtful. ] N-not my favorite way to get closer to you. But. 'Tis... nice, this feel of your aether within me. You are- alright? It did not c-cost you much to knit me into place?