And this required you freezing all the windows shut and locking me on the terrace… why, exactly? You could have just asked.

[ There’s patient exasperation in his tone as he crosses his arms over his broad chest and surveys them both. His gaze flits back and forth between them, one eyebrow arched. His expression is mild, even if inwardly, he’s anything but.

‘Uncomfortable’ doesn’t begin to describe it, but he’s used to hiding that beneath so many layers no one can pick up on it. ]

Do I even want to know what you did to the door?