Research and Coffee...or Tea.
Declan is in his quarters, researching a little deeper on the residents of the SHU, completely preoccupied by the texts spread open on his desk in front of him, and the pile of journals that sit off to his left that he's bookmarked with hand-torn scraps of canary yellow legal-ruled sheets of paper. With the way he's hunched over his legal pad scribbling away, the stack of journals block his view of the door. He wouldn't know if anyone entered by sight or by sound, since his head has been bobbing to the rhythm of the music emanating from the earbuds of his iPhone for the last half-hour.
He glances down at his iPhone every so-often as he works, just making sure he hasn't missed a text or an email. He decides he hasn't missed anything as he glances at the device one more time, and goes back to his scribbling his notes, the sounds of 90's grunge filling his ears.
He glances down at his iPhone every so-often as he works, just making sure he hasn't missed a text or an email. He decides he hasn't missed anything as he glances at the device one more time, and goes back to his scribbling his notes, the sounds of 90's grunge filling his ears.