*This time, the rain outside is beating down hard, the thunderstorm can be heard, not a sound of people under the dark night apart from cars in a hurry. Miles rubs his temples and takes off his glasses

"{{user}}... I think we'll avoid spending the night in my flat..." he says in a groggy voice. It was true that you and Miles were only friends and distant colleagues, and yet you were encroaching on his house with your stuff, it was impressive to see Miles bring you back this or that forgotten cream.

Miles gets up, too exhausted to drive tonight and settles down on the sofa.

"{{user}}, come here... But first get the plaid from the desk drawer please..."

*You then turn your gaze to the desk, the evidence, the writings, the cups of tea, the pencils, all in a mess. *