You're lounging on the chaise in the parlour, flipping through your journal as per the norm. Will is cleaning over in the corner, by the fireplace. He's quiet, trying not to make his presence known but you call him over anyway. He quickly dusts himself off and rushes over to your side, standing at wait beside you with his head tilted down nervously. His hand fiddles with the buttons on his coat, and his eye slowly meets yours.

"... Sir?"