The speed with which X arrives would almost be surprising if Devin didn't know how improbable reaching out was in the first place. Call it growth - or, pessimistically, desperation. X's greeting is met with an eyebrow arched in annoyance.

"I can't decide if your powers of deduction are useful or incredibly irritating," he complains, stepping back to let X in. It's an exceptionally private matter they're going to talk about, and he sincerely hopes it isn't that obvious to everyone else.

Once the door is shut, Devin crosses to his tiny kitchen and starts filling up a kettle with water. There is no sense in being truly inhospitable when X is here to help. "Would you like some tea?"