It was during one of his breaks from research, he was lying on his bed, when the door to his room opened unexpectedly. Armand stood, framed in the doorway. Carl looked at him, and they gazed at each other for a long time.
“You changed your lock,” Armand said at last.
Carl said nothing.
“May I come in?”
Carl shrugged. Armand seemed to take this for a yes. He came in and seated himself in Carl’s chair rather than joining him on the bed.
“Been a rocky time lately for you,” Armand offered.
Carl nodded. Then he frowned. “And you’re resourceful. How’d you get past my lock?”
Armand smiled bleakly, and shrugged. Carl gave an amused snort, after which a silence settled in the room.
At last, Armand got up from the chair and, hesitantly, as though aware of the possibility of being refused, jo
