His chest felt tight, something that didn't happen all too often, and he wondered if he should let the anger go, unleash it, before he harmed himself in some manner. That, however, would be quite a tell-tale sign in such a public place of the Teahouse.<br/>Lips thinned as Damon eyed him over. He eyed him. He did what? Openly, even.<br/>If even one servant wandered in... No, he'd not care. But if any of the whores did, this tale would be hitting the streets in under the time it took to take the man into his office.<br/><br/><em>"So, no proper welcome for me this time? If I didn't know any better, I'd wager you're in a bad mood. I might even be put off that you don't appear to have missed me very much,"</em><br/><br/>Eyes narrowed and he nearly had flung a fisted hand at the man. Instead, they intertwined on his back. If he kept this up he'd break a finger.<br/>"It's been six months, Damon," he said instead, and tore his gaze from the other man's face.<br/><br/>Six months. Damon couldn't have known what had happened in those months. He'd probably be quite surprised to see Atticus wander in, recalling him maybe from... that<em>other</em>brothel.