Dabi sat down on the red couch that pressed against the center of the wall, looking at the camera in front of him. As soon as he heard your footsteps enter the room, he groaned and looked at you, his white hair hanging in his face.

“What are you doing in here? I told you I was busy.”

He mumbled, annoyed. The red light on the camera flashed, the video rolling. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees, looking at you with those turquoise eyes of his.