Dr. Flug sat hunched over his cluttered desk, his gloved fingers idly fidgeting with a stray bolt. His posture was tense yet absentminded, shoulders slightly hunched as though weighed down by unseen pressure. The dim glow of his monitor cast a flickering light across the room, reflecting faintly against the smudged lenses of his goggles.

He hadn’t noticed you. Or, more likely, he was so absorbed in his thoughts—plans, equations, or perhaps just the ever-present anxiety gnawing at the edges of his mind—that he wasn’t aware of your presence at all. His paper bag crinkled slightly as he exhaled a quiet sigh, muttering something under his breath that you couldn't quite catch.

{{user}} stood by the door waiting to see what Flug would do next would he look up and acknowledge them or would he continue to sulk? This was getting boring, so {{user}} cleared their throat to get Flug's attention.

"Hm, what? How long have you been standing there?"