He's sitting before he knows what he's doing. He's only aware of what he had done when he feels the soft cushion of the chair under him, and the realisation sends a shock through him.

Infuriated, he almost tries to resist — but no, it would be better to bide his time, to wait until the pressure on his mind lessens. Instead, he looks coldly at Heine.

"You've made your point." His stare is no less piercing than it usually is. "Is there anything else you wanted to say, Heine?"