#textmemaybe

          "I know that last text is a joke which, Ha. Ha. How very droll." Damon's already got his shirt half-off when he finally manages to get through the door. Not that he's taking it off, mind you, but rather that he's got it bunched up his torso, holding it there with his chin so he can get to his belt without that two-hundred dollars worth of generic-looking black cotton in the way, "But I feel like eavesdropping could be my thing. If only there were a way to weaponize it..."