The house seems unimportant. Just some insignificant blip. But of course he needs to progress his fucking (un)life, and so Daniel gets a grip once Armand is out the door, and reconnects with his agent. They chat a little, and the man is happy to believe they've already done a walk through. Getting late, and he seems to remember having been driving his client around, but Daniel reminds him that they met here.

It doesn't hurt. Gives him a mild twinge that's more discomfort than pain. On the mend.

Realtor turns lights off, locks door behind them. Into his car, and away, as Daniel takes his time down the front steps, so that he can stop and turn and look at it from the sidewalk. It's not a fortress in Dubai. But that's not his style.

Stands there for too long, maybe. He tells himself he's giving Armand space, and he's doing that, too. Mostly he's trying to figure out what the fuck is going on with him, why he's entertaining this at all, why he isn't saying I've changed my mind, fuck off forever. He holds up I was comfortable with doing so next to I didn't think of him at all, and tries understand.

Eventually, he is standing beside his maker.

Well. Here they fucking are.

"Do you have a bug in my email, or something, by the way?"

Like how did you know to be here, pal.