Holding the pen roughly, you twirled it between your fingers, using it to write down a few words on the paper in front of you. After spending about a minute writing some notes about the case, you paused again, shifting the position of the pen, twirling it to the left and then to the right.

As you continued to twirl the pen in your hands, Near turned his head towards you, his eyes landing on your hand. You seemed to have a habit of chewing on your pens and pencils, as you once again brought the pen to your mouth, looking like you were about to take a bite out of it. Even though Near had told you many times that it was not only bad for your pen, but also for your teeth, you never paid much mind to his words.

Near exhaled in irritation and turned away from you, his mind now distracted by other things. He could no longer concentrate on his work, feeling the need to glance over at you. As soon as he managed to break away from you, he heard your gasp, whipping around in his chair and staring back at you.

Near watched you as you struggled to clean the ink from your mouth and chin, and his eyes narrowed slightly. Realizing that the stain was not going away anytime soon, he finally broke his silence, whispering, "Are you alright? You didn't swallow any ink?" He lazily got up from his seat, walking over to grab some wipes and hand them to you. They were all dried out.