The concern was there. I could see it in the way his brow slightly furrowed, his wide mouth turned down a little at the corners. The shadowing under his eyes and stubble on his chin told me he’d not long since woken, and it had been a bad night. The lines on his face had been deepened by a night of frowning at his dreams again. His grey eyes, red-rimmed from him rubbing at them, stared down into his coffee mug, looking for answers.

“Are you going to drink that?” I said, pulling the mug away and helping myself.