[There's totally a story, but maybe it's better that Cesar isn't intimately familiar with the person Lazarus used to be, outside of a few old photographs glimpses of how old injuries have left existing scars.]

You're willing to take it apart? You must be pretty confident that you can put it back together. I thought you were a bit of a tinkerer, but I didn't think you were that good with it.

[He's finally finished picking the orange skin off; it's in more tiny pieces than it should be, but he's made sure that the surface of the fruit is smooth and even as he hands it over to be sliced. As he does so, his fingertips linger against the side of Cesar's hand, but are withdrawn quickly. He doesn't want to call to mind the lewd, bold advances of his doppelganger.]