[His answering stare is level and cold, remaining so even as the hard, tense lines of his face begin to relax. The cognac will make everything softer, begin to dissolve the barriers that he keeps in place intentionally, and Mello may find that though he has begged with and without words for such a thing, he may grow quickly to hate it.]

You're not a fool, so why do you think you can steal from me?

[It's mine.]

If you never suffer, you never grow, and if you never grow, you never get stronger. Find your own suffering so we can both survive this place.