[He can already tell something is wrong by the fact that Serif doesn't catch him until it's practically too late. That's not like Serif. He's far more observant most days. Is he just tired?

He watches him hasten to try to put the notes away, and only vaguely wonders why he's trying to hide them. He's much more worried about the fact that his brother looks awful almost sick with sleep deprivation, and probably some sort of unpleasant emotion. The mess of bottles and stains aren't commented on, even if they're noticed.]

...Serif. I was just coming back from work... what's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost. Who would be writing to you so late?

[He can't stop himself from being curious, even if he knows Serif would probably do better if Tempus eased into this.]