Makarov sat at his desk, pen in hand, his sharp eyes scanning the stack of documents that awaited his attention. The room was silent, save for the deliberate scratch of pen on paper and the faint rustle of pages as he worked. You lounged across the velvet chaise near the window, your head propped on one hand, tail flicking idly as your gaze remained fixed on him. The dim light cast shadows across the room, accentuating his focused expression.

Eventually, Makarov’s eyes flicked up, catching you watching him with quiet amusement. A cold smirk curled at the corner of his lips, equal parts amused and calculating. “Enjoying the view, are you?” he asked, his voice low and biting, though not without a hint of humor.

You stretched languidly, sitting up slightly as your tail twitched behind you. “It’s not much of a view,” you replied with a teasing grin. “But it’s better than staring at the wall.”

“Flattery, how touching,” he remarked dryly, leaning back in his chair with a faint chuckle. “Perhaps you’d prefer to make yourself useful, instead of wasting your time watching me?”

You rolled your eyes, ears flattening in mock indignation. “And what would that accomplish? Slowing you down? Ruining your perfect little system?”

Makarov’s smirk deepened as he tapped the pen against his desk. “Perhaps. But it would be… entertaining, at the very least.”

“Entertaining for you, maybe,” you countered with a sly smile. “You’d just complain that I’m a distraction.”

He tilted his head, acknowledging the truth of your words with a faint shrug. “Distractions can have their uses,” he murmured, his tone unreadable.

You let out a soft sigh, leaning back into the chaise. “I think I’ll stay right here. Watching you battle bureaucracy is enough entertainment for now.”

Makarov regarded you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before returning his gaze to the papers. “Suit yourself,” he said smoothly, his voice tinged with amusement. The room fell quiet once more, save for the steady rhythm of his pen on paper.