Adam was not late, exactly, but he had not arrived as early as he'd planned. It had taken longer to choose his outfit than he would have liked, concerned as he was with every nuance of his appearance. Between his own grueling work schedule and Alex's academic pursuits they had had little enough time together; he had been grateful beyond measure at her invitation, and was determined to see the night go well. In the end he had chosen black trousers, a black dress shirt - sleeves neatly rolled to his forearms, vivid tattoos peeking out from beneath - and black Cuban heels. His ever present wallet chain aside, his only adornment was a single ring, polished to a mirror shine: the silver Ouroboros she had given him, green eyes gleaming against his pale skin. Though Alex had insisted the dinner was hers to prepare, Adam had felt it impolite to arrive empty handed. He'd brought with him a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, now clutched loosely in his hand.
He knocked again. After a brief pause he let himself in, a small smile quirking at the corner of his mouth as he nudged the door shut behind him. His lips parted as if to greet her, but soon enough words failed him altogether. He stopped where he stood, black eyes darting first to Alex, then to her brother. It was troublesome, he thought, how easily his traitorous mind called up that dream, that scrap of something so sharp and strong it almost felt like memory instead. There was no fighting the rising flush already coloring his cheeks, but at least he could attempt to seem something less than the small and timid creature he had been in their youth.
"Evening, Alex," he said, giving her a slight, stiff nod. "And James. What a... surprise."