There was nothing quite like being called over to a friend's house on a lovely Tuesday afternoon. Or, well, a gray and slightly chilly Tuesday afternoon. But Stephen wasn't here for tea, of course. He was here because a few hours ago Matthew had told him that a) he had the items that Stephen had requested, and that b) his father was dying, a fact which probably meant that he was in some kind of terrible distress, if their last meeting had told him anything.
Personally, he wasn't sure if he was actually properly dressed for the occasion. He looked like a Muggle student as usual, after all, and probably looked like he'd spent the past month indoors. Which he had. But he had a semi-clean t-shirt and jeans...well, you could wear jeans as many times as you liked so long as they weren't shit-stained. But it was good enough.
Of course it might not have been. Matthew's father was on his last legs, apparently. As much as Stephen liked being an arsehole, he did feel terrible for his friend. His mother and father dying within a year, and thinking his sister was dead too for so many months must have been hell, really. And it seemed like she wasn't coming back to him (not that Stephen was surprised).
With that in mind, it seemed more than a little insensitive that Stephen had said he was only coming over to show off his work and get the Demonstrattus and the books. But Stephen liked to think it served a different purpose. It was all well and good to sit around and grieve, but since Matthew tended to wallow in his own misery enough, Stephen thought it would be better to just take his mind off of it. Hence, reams of notes on time and post-mortem theory put into a Mokeskin pouch. And emergency wine, even though he knew full well Matthew rarely drank.
"Oh - you're right, I should have at least broken a window," he said with a little laugh, stepping up to greet Matthew by...well, he wasn't sure what to do and ended up standing rather awkwardly close to Matthew before stepping back a bit. "Good day to you, though. Here I am."