He was leaning against the doorway when quite suddenly the solid door was replaced with empty space, warm light, and a slightly hazy Amarissa.
"Happy Christmasm Amarissa," he said with a lazy smirk. It was almost funny, how it almost rhymed, he noted as he moved inside, shutting the door behind him.
His voice was a little rough, but nowhere near where it would be by morning.
Interesting name, Amarissa. Amarissa Cross, interesting pairing of a unique first name and something of a common word for a last name. Not that Potter was unique, but neither was James. His middle name he knew people thought was weird, but it was his dad's, and James liked it. Not entirely sure who he was defending this to in his head, he turned back to Amarissa Cross.
Cross. Why did that seem significant? Oh right, on her back, that tattoo. And that cake had a cross. James had to appreciate her ability to work a word.
"You sent us cake," he pointed out. It took him a moment to remember the rest of the sentence. "And I came over to say 'thank you.' So. 'Thank you.'"