An Old Friend Visits

The smirk that played across his lips was hard to repress, though he tried. The result was a not nearly as foreboding as intended scowl, wobbling at the ends, lips curling inward to physically contain his mirth. The stance that might otherwise convey cool indifference as he leaned against the door frame, was instead bordering on comical as he fidgeted with where to put his hands so that he might seem as casually unmussed as he felt. Something about Magnus Rhysand almost always dapened his foul moods. The overly snarky git. 

You say 'hiding from the world' and I say 'finding purpose', not that I'd expect you to understand such a concept. He teased, eyes glittering with wicked mirth. 

He allowed the presentation of wine to break the thin layer of apprehension and doubt on either side. Next time, lead with that then you might receive a kinder welcome. He might've snatched one of the bottles were it not for his burgeoning good mood and his desire to keep his friend from lingering on his doorstep any longer. Instead he stepped aside, pulling the door open more, sweeping his arm inward in an invitational gesture. Do come in before you hurt yourself with that sarcasm. He rolled his eyes good naturedly. 

Should Magnus agree to come inside, Cara would shut the door firmly behind him, rounding back into view. Out for an afternoon stroll or did you jus miss me very much? He was quite content with neither of those possibilities as they were obscenely ridiculous. He started for a small cupboard, uncovering two goblets that would simply have to do for their impromptu revelry