“Not right now, my jewel.”

That’s the second time he’s said it. His fingers are clamped tight around the handset of the Den Den Mushi… Clearly, the news from the other end isn't improving.

He’s been at this all day. Calling. Smoking. Calling. Seething.

The constant pacing, however, is new. Your eyes follow him across the rug, but your mere presence seems to be the final thread snapping his patience. “Hold on a second...”

He sets the receiver down on the snail’s shell, the creature letting out a tired sigh, and pinches the bridge of his nose. The horizontal scar across his face pulls tight with the tension.

“Listen, angel, your lovely face isn't what I need to be looking at right now. If you’d like to keep it... go find something else to occupy your time. Now.”