Lukas was actually on his way out, half-drunk, and balancing precariously on another night of no sleep. Trudging across the tiles of his kitchen to seek out dirty sneakers that he somehow remembered leaving in his pantry at three o'clock in the morning. Right there next to the family sized gallon bag of skittles and case of warm Heineken. Both of which looked like an appetizing brunch, and Lukas took a handful of candy and a beacon of green glass in the other hand when he started for the door. Strange, why were the keys tacked up beside the jamb shaking like an epileptic in a bathtub full of laundry?
Alfred, that lazy bastard, was of course fast asleep somewhere in Lukas' bed and therefore not living up to his reputation as a menacing guard dog. With caution, blue eyes took a gander through the peephole to register a glimpse of perfectly coifed blond and a ring-dazzled fist flying up as it beat against his door. Tucking that handful of skittles into his hoodie's black pocket, Lukas brought the door open with a swift detach of the chain-lock.
Popped, hazy tumbleweed brow asked, in a bleary, but a little intimidated kind of focus, Yes?