For a good fifteen seconds, nothing happened. Dorian didn't move a muscle, his gaze didn't waver. But after fighting a battle with himself and losing, he reached out to snatch the paper from Jason's grasp so sharply that it tore the edge off, leaving the corner still gripped between Jason's fingers.

He didn't look at it, he just held it, gripped so tightly it bent and curled under the pressure. He doesn't look at the Avox, or what he's doing.

"Are you going to explain it or will I be forced to attempt to decipher your scrawl?" He snapped, which was somewhere between an agreement to cooperate and a petulant stand against him, and to be honest Dorian couldn't decide which.

It bothered him. It bothered him, more deeply than he could say, that Jason would know to say that.