"It's quiet," I say, pouring the rich, dark espresso into a heavy stoneware mug and topping it off with hot water. "A little too quiet lately, but... I like it."
I walk into the living room, handing him the mug. He takes it, his thick, tattooed fingers wrapping around the ceramic, and gives me a brief nod of thanks.
We sit down together on the deep leather sofa facing the glass, Mayhem sprawling out with his long legs kicked out, taking up half the furniture, while I curl my legs up under my sweater next to him.
He takes a long, slow gulp of the scalding black coffee, letting out a satisfied grunt as the heat hits him.
"So," he says, turning his head slightly to look at me out of the corner of his eye, a faint, teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Word on the street is w
