Oh the ease does bother him, but there's a lot of other equally attention grabbing things happening right now. He gives Lucius a look when he seems to give up and drag his feet off the table. You're disgusting.

"I'll bear that in mind."

He hasn't done much tailoring in a while and Ed's wardrobe needs very little upkeep in that way. It's mostly stitching up stab holes, driving needles through leather, and oiling the delicate little joint of his knee brace. Sometimes he swears that Ed chooses to dress like a vagrant on purpose. Other times he knows it is what is demanded of him as Blackbeard. But god you should see some of the stains he'd had to take a whump at.

Izzy looks over the shirt for another minute, marveling at the tight stitching and careful monogramming of a name that is not his. Free, huh. Free his ass.

The book Lucius gave him yesterday lays on the bedside table over Izzy's shoulder with a bit of coffee sachet used as a bookmark. He's about a third the way through. Under it is another small notebook and beside the stack lays a pen.

Right. So. What now.

This isn't awkward or anything.

Assuming correctly that the other drink is for him, he reaches in to take, inspect, sniff, and then sip. It is unlike anything he has ever had the (mis)fortune of tasting. It's amazing. Lucius can not know this.

"Plhadhf- what the fuck!? Is this- Is this meant to be tea?!"