He's replacing the lid as Grace talks, pressing it down with care until he feels the muted pop of the rim seating itself. Satisfying.

Publishing, productivity, James, wanting to be useful. Though he isn't looking directly at her—he would rather not, though he hasn't noticed this yet, nor begun to consider why—Viktor is listening. He straightens out of his slouch while he considers the question, almost as a stretch, shortly sinks back into it. (Muted, gliding components seating themselves along his spine. Satisfying.)

"It's fine."

Yeah, that was a bullshit reflex answer, and his body language acknowledges as much, particularly in the way he pushes a finger under the goggle band above his ear in fidgety pursuit of some little itch, and the face he makes while doing so.

Does he correct himself? No. No, he does not.