(Ilya doesn’t speak more on the matter, simply leaning forward to peck Shane’s cheekbone before taking a piroshki and began to eat. He hummed in delight, almost a little too delightful. He’d forgotten what this tasted like since it’s been so long not having it.)
Very good,
(he sighs, because Ilya's eyes betray him. And his general expression isn't too good. And the guilt keeps spreading because it's his birthday. He should be happy.)
Ilya... It happened. I'm here. I didn't leave. It's your birthday and you have lots to eat and drink and smell!