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D sits. Watching. Waiting.
Leon slams open the door. Scowling. Blustering.
D looks up, mismatched eyes giving nothing away.
Leon stops, mid-rant, looks away.
D throws his tea cup across the room, watching impassively as it shatters against a wall.
Leon thumps the door, then scrubs his eyes with the heel of his palm.
D strokes his hair behind an ear with a trembling hand. Leon will not be coming. Not anymore.
Leon runs a hand through his hair, looking round with bewildered frustration. D's not there. Not anymore.

Isn't it amazing how hard it is to break a habit?