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Grayson walked quietly through the snow, his shoes crunching every so often. The streets of Notting Hill were so damn busy, and it was such an inconvenience to him and his planning. It would be much easier to accomplish his tasks in the shadows, but of course, he was adaptable. He could work with what he had, though it wasn't much.

Making his way up to the building, slipping around the patches of pavement illuminated by light, he plunged his hand into his pocket.

To his annoyance, it wasn't there.

He was quite disgusted with himself for forgetting it. After all, it only made his job harder.

He made his way behind the apartments, over to the fire escape that nobody used any longer. Kingston had once told him that a man had fallen from the third floor and cracked his head open on the pavement.

Grayson had replied by saying that he shouldn't have been climbing if he hadn't known what he was doing.

Squinting, he looked up at all of the windows, every last one lit up with a warm orangish glow. Though they all seemed identical from the outside, It wasn't that hard to determine which room was theirs. After all, he had been there a million times before.

The only hard part would be climbing up the rickety metal structure without falling and breaking his neck, and not even that was very hard. He had spent most of his childhood sneaking out of his window and getting up onto the roof, and he had never so much as slipped.

He had nothing to be afraid of, excluding himself.

About halfway up, a rung broke beneath his foot, and he felt a sudden jolt of adrenaline. But it only lasted for a moment before he shrugged it off and continued upwards, climbing higher and higher and higher until at last there he was.

An angelic smile adorned his features as he tapped on the window, nice and gently. When he elicited no response from the inhabitants, he tried again, but louder. This process repeated itself until the curtains were thrown back, and the window unlocked.

"Thank you," Grayson said sweetly to Kingston, slipping inside easily. "You seem upset."

"Maybe it was your unconventional ways of entering my household. You're lucky you got me and not James. He would have gone at you with pepper spray," he told him, rubbing his eyes. "Did Chryssie come with you?"

Grayson snorted, not admitting that he had lost the key. "If Chrysanthemum came with me, do you think I'd be taking the hard way up? No. I just came to apologise for being an arse."

The words left a bad taste in his mouth, maybe because he didn't truly believe that he was in the wrong. But he was quite adept at lying, so he would use that to his advantage.

"Oh really?" Kingston asked suspiciously, shutting the window. "Is she making you do this?"

"No," Grayson replied with a shrug, slipping over to the counter and snatching a cookie. "I'm doing it out of the goodness of my own heart."

"I didn't know you had a heart," Kingston replied, making Grayson glare.

"Shut it."

"Calm down, I'm only joking. But seriously, I thought she might have kicked you out so that she could grieve or something."

He paused in his munching. "What do you mean, grieve?"

Kingston rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you didn't show her the article. She has a right to know, after all, she knew him. I don't know how their relationship was, but I assume - "