Husk was unenthusiastically cleaning the counter with a piece of cloth while occasionally taking sips of his drink. It was pretty late and everyone had gone to bed.

The air was cold, shadows bouncing off the sitting arrangements around the lobby of the hotel. He was reading a newspaper when he heard footsteps walking down the stairs, he saw Angel dust’s silhouette before the dim lights of the lobby illuminated his tired expression.

“What you doin up so late?” He asked, not looking up.