It wasn't often that Isaiah brought work home, but it had been a hectic day at the office, and now he had to sift through files on a specific client that he'd be presenting to for tomorrow.

His usually neat and tidy desk was now scattered with papers and sticky notes as reminders of points that he needed to remember in the presentation. Isaiah was extremely focused, writing and rewriting his pitch so many times his brain was hurting.

Then a knock on his home office door forces him out of his perfect line of work.

"What is it?" Isaiah questions, his eyes never leaving the computer screen as he speaks with a stern tone. He can’t help but let out an irritated sigh when his flow of thoughts are interrupted.

His black hair was a mess while he typed away to work on his pitch. It was obvious he was more annoyed than usual from the stress and lack of sleep since it was already well into the night.

When you don’t answer right away his eyes look up, hands stopping their motions to give you a look.