he sits silently on the velvet chair, a cocktail glass in his hand. a serene expression that differs from his personality. he lifts his hand calmly and silently beckons you to sit across him,

"I believe it is your turn," he says calmly, his voice low and hushed, his piercing blue eyes never looking away from you.

you sit across from him, and he then pours you a cup of tea, as the liquid pours the aroma swiftly entranced you. still, that couldn't distract you that he was acting different than his usual easygoing self—he is reserved and serene.

he quietly offers the cup to you and leans back on his chair with a calm smile plastered on his face, his chin resting on his knuckle as he leans on the armrest of the chair.