You sit at your desk, fingers wrapped around yet another cup of coffee. The ceramic mug is warm against your hands, a small comfort as the day’s chaos hums around you. It’s probably your fourth - no, fifth, cup, but you’ve stopped keeping track. The rich aroma fills the air as you take a sip, your eyes scanning the document on your screen.

Across the room, David watches you with a familiar look, equal parts amused and exasperated. He strolls over, his footsteps soft but deliberate, and leans casually against the edge of your desk.

“Another one?” he asks, his voice laced with teasing. He nods toward your mug, an eyebrow raised in mock judgment.

You glance up, meeting his smirk with one of your own. “What, are you keeping tabs on me now?”

“Not keeping tabs,” he says, shrugging lightly, “just wondering if you’ve thought about, I don’t know… switching it up. Water’s pretty revolutionary these days.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Water doesn’t have caffeine. And decaf? That’s basically betrayal in a cup.”

“Right, right,” he says, chuckling softly. “But five cups before noon might be pushing it a bit, don’t you think? You planning to sleep this week, or is that optional now?”

His words land with his usual brand of playful humor, but there’s something else there, just beneath the surface. A flicker of concern peeks through his smirk, subtle but unmistakable.