Is this a good chapter one?

This is chapter one for a story I'm writing?

Jason was sitting at his desk, staring at his computer screen. He was tired, as always. The screen was the only light, filling his faded blue eyes with emptiness. The image on the screen was that of Balam, a duke of hell. Jason was researching several demons from the grimoire, “The Lesser Key Of Solomon”, for a paper for the university. His research led him nowhere; he was trying to find information on the powers of the demons and how their hierarchy worked.

“These bloody demons will be the death of me,” he muttered, sipping the wine next to him. The alcohol was soothing. It had a power over him that no woman had ever held. It calmed him. It loved him. It understood him. He could feel his frustration slipping away as the wine made it's way down his throat. He sighed and turned his shining gaze to the gun resting in it's velvet case beside him. It was loaded, calling his name from the murky depths of the case. He had bought it several years ago, when depression had locked onto him, a by-product of alcoholism, and always kept it loaded, just in case he ever did something stupid that required punishment...

He took the gun from the case and stared at it, twirling it in his hands. A part of him longed to place the gun to his head, pull the trigger, and let death take him away. He could feel his hand slowly moving up to his temple.
Three sharp raps on the door made Jason jump out of his contemplation. He hurriedly placed the gun back in it's case and closed the lid.
“Come in”, he rasped.
Laura creaked the door open, a little cautious to enter. “It’s dark in here.”
“I know,” he replied, keeping his gaze on the screen. “I prefer to work in the dark; it helps me think.”
Laura took a few tiny steps further into the room, eyes locked on the glass of wine. “Any luck with the paper?”
“Nothing, as usual.” He glanced at her “Why won’t you show me the picture on the locket?”
Laura heaved a sigh. “If I've said it once, I've said it a hundred times. The locket is empty, Jason. What is your absurd obsession with it, anyway?”
He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, as he often did when he was stressed. His eyes strayed to the glass of wine, but he forced himself to ignore it; it would only cause more trouble. He heard her curse and storm from the room; she had seen his gaze flicker.

[HostelSaw]

Seems good to me, a tad short maybe for a whole chapter.