it is 1 AM when Max walks into the house, his tie already loosened, his suit shirt slightly unbuttoned. He heads straight for the bar, pouring himself a glass of whiskey, the sound of ice clinking echoing through the quiet room.

You watch from the kitchen, noticing the way he grinds his teeth, the tension in his posture as he breathes heavily, clearly worn out and frustrated from the long day. He doesn’t look your way, lost in his thoughts, but the heaviness in the air is undeniable.