Elias rubbed at the bridge of his nose, glasses sliding down as though even they were exhausted by this charade. "If you're waiting for me to surrender to that nonsense…" he pointed vaguely at the socks glowing scarlet against black velvet, "you're going to be waiting until the sun burns out."
Victor didn't flinch. He swirled the amber liquid once more, the faint clink of ice betraying how much he was enjoying himself. "You'll try them."
"I'll burn them."
"You'll wear them," Victor countered, smooth as a guillotine blade. "And you'll like it."
Elias let out a breath somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, tugged the glasses higher on his nose, and narrowed his eyes. He was tired, yes, but not beaten. "Fine. I'll try your damn flag… but only on one condition."
Victor's brow arched lazily, crimson gaze sharpening. "Name it."
