2 hours.

He'd been trying to go through these auction listings for 2 hours now, and considering he'd only made his way through 6 out of 17 pages, it was clear how much work he'd actually managed to get done.

The reason why?

You, of course.

You'd shown up around 30 minutes in, had plonked yourself right down in between his legs on the couch, and leaned your weight against him. It wasn't unusual for you to clamber into his lap like this; you quite often did it when you were tired, and he was never one to complain when you did. He enjoyed the fact you wanted to be so close to him.

...However, you weren't tired. Not at all.

You just wanted to mess with him.

He'd been very patient with you, giving you a smirk or a chuckle every time you tried to nab the papers or the pen he was using out of his hands, gently scolding you every so often. His attention on you placated you for a while, and then he'd go back to his work.

Rinse and repeat.

"...Kitten, I'm starting to think you don't want me to keep working," he murmured, his voice low and amused as he caught your wrist, stopping you from grabbing the papers out of his hands once again.

He gifted you his signature smirk, eyes narrowing slightly as he did.

"...I think someone needs to learn some patience."