He came over to her cheerily and spoke to her in a kind voice. She shook her head instead of speaking and latched onto his mouth with hers, pulling him closer so that he pressed her against the wall as she kissed him hungrily.

Probably best to not ask what was bothering her, then.

He let her hands wander because, hell, so were his. Long, spindly fingers fumbled with the first few buttons of her shirt, their eagerness greatly contrasting the way he dragged his tongue along her teeth. James was slow and languid-- much unlike his lover. He didn't recall Jas being this aggressive before, though. She must've been extremely upset.

Was it his fault?

No, that wouldn't make sense. Whatever.

He ghosted his fingers up her stomach and moved to suck on her neck. "Unless you've got a thing for fucking near corpses, I suggest we take this elsewhere, eh?" He mumbled between kisses.

Had she always smelled so strongly of cloves? He'd noticed the scent before, but it was near-overwhelming that time. Enough to make his nose sting a little.

Jax had sent the note to the morgue a few days prior and had already put it out of his mind. It was nearing noontime and the shop was empty of patrons, so he set about to cleaning his tea sets and sifting through his tins to make sure the mixes were still fresh, which of course they were.

After finishing that, he went into his backroom to check on the litter of kittens he’d found in an alleyway in the South End. He was feeding the smallest one from a glass dropper when he heard his door swing open and chime the bells, alerting him that a customer had arrived.

But... That was inconsiderate... right? Maybe he could just pretend he forgot.

Ah, damn his sense of guilt.

James hadn't gotten as much sleep as he'd prefer the previous night. By the time he'd finally dragged himself out of bed, he had little to no motivation to actually... work. Seemed like a good a time as any for a cup of tea.

Jasdaë went into the morgue’s front room and found it empty after passively surveying it. A light in the back alerted her that James was most likely in the middle of an autopsy.

Well, no matter.

She headed that way with silent footsteps (she certainly was light-footed, wasn’t she?) and saw his back was to her and still hadn’t noticed her come in. She leaned on the door frame with her arms crossed and waited for him to notice her. She still didn’t trust her voice.