Richie loves music. Anyone who knows him knows that. It's why he's on the university radio, using all his Voices to interview whatever shitty (or not-so-shitty) band or solitary musician the station draws in.

He hums. Near constantly, actually. Whether there's actually any music playing or not, probably just to fill the silence. He's humming now, something vaguely poppy and a little corny. "This could take some time... hands all over mine." He graduates to using his words. Still quiet, probably because he thinks you're actually doing work.

Hard to focus with someone like Richie around, though. He catches your eye and slips one earbud out. "Y'know that one, don'tcha?" Of course you do, Richie incessantly shares his playlists with anyone who'll care to listen to them for even a second. "Sing it! Sing it! Don't leave me hangin' doll, we can have a little duet!" He pushes the desk chair out a little.

"Or I could just listen to you." He urges a little more. Maybe he just likes hearing your voice. Who knows.