[ Letting himself in, it all seems as it ever does. His throw in the corner of the couch most often occupied during his time here. And there's York. Taylor. Looking every last bit himself. ]
You're looking well.
[ Raising a brow, Locus lets the door close behind him, before moving inward. ]
action
You're looking well.
[ Raising a brow, Locus lets the door close behind him, before moving inward. ]