Unlike his other siblings, Duma's Shabbat had been long since over and Sunday was just another day for work. So he had spent some time in his cafe, doing the owner/manager thing and then he'd retreated upstairs as the cafe prepared to close. He had to work on the book keeping and so had gotten distracted by that. Glasses were perched on his nose though he didn't really need them. It just helped him see the small print better, his handwriting neat but tiny to save room.
But there was a thudding at his door and he looked up as his cat, Yves, went to sit on the table by the door and began to purr loudly - so loudly that Azrael likely heard it. Duma set his pen down and straightened up the loose tank shirt he wore, which hung so low and loosely that the outline rose he'd had tattooed on his right pec just under his collar bone was visible. He didn't bother checking the peep hole to see who it was and simply smiled broadly when he opened the door to his brother. Swinging it wide, he gestured for Azrael to enter quite grandly.