Damian's hesitation melts away. It would be unfair to say that his posture relaxes (he prefers being wound up), he becomes more comfortable in his own skin for the invitation. Unfortunately, his own skin is not to everyone's tastes, his father's, seemingly, included. He peels off his domino, the mask slipping easily into his fingers, and he shuts the door behind him with his foot as he steps further into the room. There's no one watching from outside. He's already made sure.
"This is my house. I don't need you to tell me to come in."
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Damian's hesitation melts away. It would be unfair to say that his posture relaxes (he prefers being wound up), he becomes more comfortable in his own skin for the invitation. Unfortunately, his own skin is not to everyone's tastes, his father's, seemingly, included. He peels off his domino, the mask slipping easily into his fingers, and he shuts the door behind him with his foot as he steps further into the room. There's no one watching from outside. He's already made sure.
"This is my house. I don't need you to tell me to come in."