It's only then we become aware of a presence lingering in the doorway, and both look up to see Damon.
Clad in a navy dressing gown that's only been half-heartedly tied at the belt, so it hangs open loosely, he looks dishevelled, tired and perceptibly irritated.
"Sweet is he?" He looks at me questioningly.
Jarvis glances up from his paper, only just realising that Damon has put in an appearance. "D'you want a brew Damon?"
"And just how is he so sweet exactly?" Damon is demanding, not bothering to respond to Jarvis' offer.
In true Jarvis' style, he pours him a cup of tea anyway.
I match Damon's glare with a defiant look of my own. "Brett's kindly offered to ring a taxi for me. That's all."
"He doesn't need to, I can do that."
Brett huffs and rolls his eyes. "Does it matter really? T
