Re: Shiloh & Kit: the B&B sitting room
Kit knew. That sounded all-encompassing: it wasn't. He simply knew of Shiloh's Shiloh-ness, the constancy of his desire to be aggravating. Kit was not yet awake enough to be aggravated, even if he were the sort to rise to it easily. He wasn't, which sounded all-encompassing and was. However hopeful Shiloh was about being especially annoying, Kit looked unruffled despite being, well. Ruffled. His hair was on end and his shirt button trying to work itself loose from his cuff and he clutched his coffee mug like a child's blanket until he set it down.
Shiloh, Kit judged, looked rather less annoyed and more pleased with himself. "It is atrocious," he said, unapologetically. It was, the coffee was the product of little time, little effort and a degree of necessity. It was worse by far than the brew Tory had made in a small interior office and that was saying much. "I think the physiology of that defies science," Kit remarked, as he made tracks toward the espresso machine and listened to Shiloh at the same time. Listening to Shiloh would require coffee anyhow, and Kit applied himself to a generous helping of it, and drifted back on 'pleasant coincidence' said with a sharp smile that Shiloh had probably admired in a mirror once or twice.
Kit looked, it had to be said although it probably doesn't need saying, unperturbed by the absence of social niceties. He stirred sugar into his concoction, and he tapped a pocket in his jeans as if to check something was there, and then he sucked the teaspoon clean. "I'm not disinclined. I'm un-caffeinated. You could begin with them," he pointed out, although he didn't look bothered by their absence. He was remedying the state of affairs with slugs of black, hot coffee and he consumed it with the same hunger someone probably took in the buffet.
"Exactly what I said I was. I'm here to work." Peaceably.