And Sebastiane had promised her coffee. Absinthe coffee, to be exact, and he wasn't the type to not keep a promise. It was a covert little cocktail for the most part, looked like coffee, sweetened with a bit of sugar to keep the bitterness of the Absinthe from meshing with the bitterness of the coffee and overwhelming the tastebuds, perhaps a dollop of whipped cream to soften the blow, so to speak. It was a lovely drink, and it was something she wanted- not to mention the poor girl was laid up with a broken ankle which was no fun at all.
Well.
He had it in him to do something nice for her. Despite having to deal with one eternal teenager decked out in fishnets following him around in the kitchen demanding to know what he was doing, he managed to quietly slip out and away in a big black wool coat that finally, finally matched the weather conditions outside. He was Goth after all. It was easier to get away with dressing like this when it started to get cold. Dark, and cheerful, and odd. Everything was dead and he simply dissolved into it, and the people outside, and up to her door, eventually, of course, and wondered if it was locked. Only one way to check, really, with a warning knock, a decidedly not-so-goth in it's cheerfulness "May I come in?" and the lightest of light tugs of the doorknob.