Dorian was venturing dangerously close to making Yuri cross with him, though Yuri did his best not to allow his displeasure show through the mask he wore. Perhaps his eyes were a little narrowed, his smile a little sharp, but by now Dorian was used to that, wouldn't think it out of the ordinary, right?

...Though if he did, Yuri almost didn't care. He did not want to talk about alcohol. He did not want to imagine the stuff in his home. And he certainly did not want to ever be around someone who was intoxicated, particularly Dorian Gray, who was already irritatingly impossible to predict as things were.

"I'm not twisting your arm," said Yuri as he brought the plates to the kitchen and set them in the sink. When he returned, he stood watching Dorian from near the doorway, arms folded over his chest. "Two truths and a lie, was it? I'll begin."

Loathe as he was to tell unnecessary lies, he'd made a life of one for himself, and no one was any the wiser. How hard could this game be?

"I am actually color blind. I speak fluent Russian. And I enjoy the company of cats."