(no subject)

[gallowseyes]

His day, not to put too fine a point on it, has gone to shit. He'd slipped out of the apartment nearly to go and ride and had been thrown. Thankfully, he'd been on sand, so the bruising is minimal, but the stiffness in his shoulder has lingered all day. He'd gone to do some session work -- cello, not viola de Gamba, which means the instrument, whole familiar, feels less like a part of him. The fingering of the part has been complicated, and he'd managed to break his bow and had to use a spare.

At least he'd been paid.

By the time he lets himself into his apartment, he's in a foul mood but, when he opens the door, he instantly knows that someone else is home.

"Lee?"