Christopher pursed his lips as his head fell forward into a slump, and that time, he did sigh. Rain was coming down in buckets, and the trees swayed violently in the harsh wind. Frankly, Christopher was not so keen about venturing through that. He came here for a hot coffee, not to return to the office with a rained-down slop. Back in the warm, dry cafe, there was only two chairs left. And two men standing, himself and Spencer.
"Right," he said, taking a seat, the chair scraping across the tiled floor dully.