[ There's a discordant comfort to be found in hearing a little slice of home. Stephen huffs out a breath through a smirk and ducks to snatch up his own whiskey, taking an answering - considerably smaller - swig before landing himself back down into the seat he'd occupied when Jason first entered. ]
To what do I owe the honour?
[ Not business. Not pleasure. But surely not just commiseration, either... They've made strides, but enough to have earned a well-being check-in? ]
no subject
To what do I owe the honour?
[ Not business. Not pleasure. But surely not just commiseration, either... They've made strides, but enough to have earned a well-being check-in? ]