Summary:

Then Ilya sighed. Shane looked him up and down once in quick succession. He couldn’t quite read his expression. “What?” “I think I am…” Ilya pursed his lips “...jealous?” “You’re jealous?” Shane raised his eyebrows. “Of an inanimate object?” “What is…” “It means like,” he sighed, grateful to get the attention shifted off himself, if only for a second, “it’s just a thing.” “Then why so many words when you could just say thing?” Ilya’s accent clipped over the digraph as he rushed to the end of the sentence. “It’s just two words. And it’s about specifying-” “Anyway,” Ilya shook his head, deflecting Shane’s rambling. “Yes. I am jealous of the thing.” “You’re ridiculous.”