It did not precisely annoy or particularly anger Adam, this familiarity James showed to Alex so easily after so long an absence. Instead it seemed only a fresh wound, heaping insult upon literal injury. Having no recourse - it was clear Alex wanted to hear no more from either of them, though James ignored this missive as easily as he ignored anything not entirely to his liking - he slunk to the table, collecting what food he could in spite of his now thoroughly diminished appetite. The wine he left, and the melting milkshake, and headed for the door.
"Have a good night, Alex," he said, and slipped carefully beside them, out into the hall.