Pagan stares at him a moment, absolutely delighted by this. How is this big man, all muscles and frowns, equally, well, adorable? Honestly, this soul mate thing is looking less terrible and more endearing as the moments go on. And yet, Pagan still can't help but feel that maybe it's all manufactured in some way. Maybe he's supposed to feel these things because of some cosmic design.

And there's nothing he hates more than being forced to do things.

That's a complaint for later. "Well, we must teach you. Because Japanese is not a language I'm fully comfortable with and I speak three. Three! Anyway. I asked what the fuck you were doing back here when you're supposed to be dead."