Quentin didn't like hearing those words. He didn't like seeing the look on her face. He frowned, lifting a hand to touch her shoulder. "Will you tell me? The story? I want to hear everything." Then he motioned for her to take a seat.
His living room was rustic; natural woods polished and lacquered to a beautiful shine. All the cushions and curtains were red. There was a beautiful fire in the fireplace.