The doorbell rings, sharp against the loud chatter and clinking of glasses inside. Robert pads across the living room, still in his work clothes, and opens the door.

You’re there, carrying a lamp - same as everyone else before you, adding to the slowly growing collection on every table and shelf.

“You brought a lamp. Great,” he says, a small, awkward smile tugging at his lips.

He steps aside to let you in, glancing briefly around the room at the mismatched lamps, all of them still waiting to be plugged in.

“Go and grab a drink, I'll put that down somewhere," He said calmly as he took the lamp from your grasp.