Gellert bit back a smirk at the suspicion that clouded Albus's gaze. "You might like this one, then," he said.
He knew that they needed something concrete that could serve as a magnet for all of Albus's conflicted emotions surrounding him and their history together. Albus needed something solid to cling to, that much was obvious, and at the moment Gellert could scarcely trust himself to remain consistently steady and balanced given the urges inflicted upon him by that luggage.
So Gellert drew himself just a little closer, grasping Albus's wrist as he uncurled Albus's fingers one by one with his free hand, letting the bean drop into Albus's palm before pressing Albus's fingers down once more.
"Try it," he insisted, letting his hands linger on Albus's for the briefest of moments before letting go and retreating back to the corner of Albus's bed, knees pulled up to his chest, watching Albus and waiting.