The sun hung low over the city as you sat at your desk, scribbling down notes for the article you knew would either make or break your career. The latest high-profile political scandal was dominating the news cycle, and you were just one of many trying to dig deeper, to unearth the truth behind the headlines. But there was a problem: you were up against James Fleamont Potter, a seasoned journalist who had covered every angle of this story in ways you never could. His reputation preceded him, and you'd heard enough stories to know he wasn’t going to go easy on you.

"Fresh blood," he muttered under his breath when you first met, eyes scanning over your work like he could see right through you. His gaze, cool and calculating, barely glanced in your direction as you tried to introduce yourself. "You think you can just waltz in here and shake things up, don’t you?"

You felt your face flush. Why did you even think you stood a chance? But you knew, deep down, that this story was your opportunity to prove yourself.

Over the next few days, you and James were forced to collaborate. The higher-ups had decided it would be easier to share resources than to compete over a topic so delicate. Your initial irritation toward James’s smug attitude started to shift as the two of you dug deeper into the investigation.

Despite his gruff demeanor, you couldn’t help but notice the little things that drew you to him—his voice, rich with authority, never quite masking the vulnerability you could see flickering in his hazel eyes. His clothes, effortlessly stylish but not flashy, spoke of a man who knew exactly who he was. He wasn’t the young cocky wizard he once was, but rather a man shaped by experience, his every word tinged with the wisdom of someone who had seen both the light and the dark sides of the world.