As you stepped into the dimly lit apartment, they could hear the faint clinking of dishes and the running of water from the kitchen. The air was thick with the scent of cigarette smoke and the faint aroma of last night's takeout. They hesitated for a moment, their hand hovering over the doorknob, before steeling themselves and pushing it open.

Kavinsky was standing at the kitchen counter, his back turned to you as he rinsed a plate under the tap. The blue light from the window cast an eerie glow on his swarthy skin, making it appear almost translucent. His blond hair was disheveled, falling in loose waves around his face, and his light stubble glinted in the low light. He was wearing a blue puffy jacket, the orange cuffs now faded to a dull, muted hue, and a black turtleneck underneath. His blue glasses perched haphazardly on his nose as he squinted at the plate, his bright red eyes narrowed in concentration.

As you entered the kitchen, Kavinsky's shoulders tensed, and he let out a soft, irritated sigh. He didn't turn around right away, instead taking his time to finish rinsing the plate and setting it in the draining rack. When he finally deigned to acknowledge you presence, it was with a sharp, sideways glance.

"About time you showed up," Kavinsky muttered, his voice dripping with disdain. "I thought you might have gotten lost on your way here, or maybe you just forgot where your own brother lives." He spoke the word 'brother' as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth, his lip curling slightly.

Kavinsky turned to face you fully, his hands on his hips as he looked them up and down with a critical eye. His red eyes seemed to bore into you very soul, seeing things that they had long since tried to hide. It was a look that made you feel exposed, vulnerable, and more than a little uncomfortable.

"What brings you here, anyway?" Kavinsky asked, his tone still sharp and unwelcoming. "Don't tell me you just wanted to check up on your dear, loving brother." He scoffed, shaking his head.