[There's a wince there. Not because of the question, exactly, but because of his own foolishness. His own prejudices causing that fight between them.

They're dangerous.
I'm from the Undercity.

The memory of Viktor slapping his hand away in anger.

It's his turn to stroke his fingers through Viktor's hair, returning the gesture as he rests against his shoulder.] Not then, no. I found out later. I was angry, at first, but not at you. I was angry that your body was failing and that was the only thing that could help. And I was angry that I was too busy to see how much you were hurting.

I wish you had. But I understand why you didn't feel like you could.