Damien didn't move. He stood in the doorway, one hand still on the knob, the other clenched by his side. His eyes flicked over Sebastian, taking in the perfectly pressed coat, the faint scent of spice and mint that always seemed to follow him, and the maddening calm with which he carried himself.
Sebastian, in turn, looked past him and into the house with a casual sort of interest—like he was inspecting something he already owned.
"I suppose this is the part where you invite me in?" he asked, arching a brow.
"Suppose it isn't." Damien says in return.
Sebastian chuckled under his breath. "Still stubborn. I see some things haven't changed."
Then, without waiting for permission, he stepped forward. Damien didn't move aside, but he didn't stop him either. Sebastian slipped past him like smoke.
Inside, he glanced around with a discerning eye, nodding slowly.
