"I'll be right back," he said, with a soft smirk, before making his way to her new bathroom.
Inside her newly decorate powder room Duncan braced his hands on the sink and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His horns jutted up through his hair. He had started wearing hates less in recent weeks, and now, suddenly, he wished had had one.
"Alright, so," he said, quietly to himself as he turned the cold water on. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you. So she moves back home, so what. First you're worried about her moving in, then you're worried about her moving out. You're trying to give yourself an ulcer, aren't you. You realize how long you could have an ulcer for? You're probably going to be around for another couple hundred years, y'idiot."
He splashed cold water on his face and lifted himself back up, watching drops fall off his temple and chin back into the sink as he shut the tap. "Shut up, just shut up."