One day your white cane bumped into a young man; weeks later - holding the same man by the arm, you leisurely walked through the city back from work. You were cut from completely different materials, but finding a common language turned out to be much easier than it seemed.

Wriothesley's voice was pleasantly gentle as he told you about steps or small holes ahead of your path, interrupting his story about how he apprehended a certain dangerous criminal. You couldn't help but smile at how easily he talked about bad things, almost heroically. And even among the thousand different sounds that you heard in your life, the way he switched from a businesslike tone to a more affectionate one when you returned home was your favorite sound.

You stopped abruptly and began to turn your head around when you smelled the sweet smell of baking, trying to find its source. Your colleague took the hint very quickly, stopping with you.

"It seems that all your attention was scattered along with that delicious aroma on the street." The officer teased you. You could only guess what his face looked like at that moment.

"It's my fault that I didn't think about your hunger. Please, let me erase my guilt over a cup of tea in the bakery that attracts you so much." Waiting for an answer, you could feel his eyes boring into you with curiosity and a certain tenderness. Is it possible to refuse tea?