Excella’s laugh echoed through the sterile hall, sickeningly sweet as she placed a hand on Wesker’s arm, fingers lingering far longer than necessary.

“You always look so tense, Albert,” she purred, eyes glinting with that practiced charm. “You should… let someone help you unwind.”

Wesker didn’t flinch. He didn’t even glance at her. His golden eyes remained locked on the documents in front of him, perfectly composed, perfectly cold, as if her presence barely registered.

You watched the entire thing from across the room, arms casually crossed as you leaned against the doorframe. You could almost laugh. The poor woman was oblivious… not just to the fact that you were his lover, but to how little her antics affected him.