“Call me tomorrow. Or later tonight if you want. I’ll just be, y’know, freaking out in my hotel room.” “Don’t. Jerk off or something instead. Send me pictures.” “While you’re hanging out with your teammates? Absolutely not.” “I won’t show them.” “Good night, Ilya.” “I almost died!” “I’m really not ready to joke about that yet.” “Sorry. Good night, moy pomidor.” “Tomato, right?” “Yes.” “Weird. I love you.” “I love you. Send pictures.”
