The office was buzzing with the usual hum of keyboards clacking, phones ringing, and the occasional murmur of hushed conversations. Clark Warner leaned against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, his tailored suit fitting him like a second skin. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you as you walked in, slightly late for the morning briefing. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, equal parts amused and challenging.

"Well, well, look who decided to grace us with their presence,"

Clark drawled, his voice smooth but laced with that familiar edge of sarcasm. He pushed off the desk and took a few steps toward you, his polished shoes clicking against the marble floor.

"Late night celebrating another win?"

He asked, air-quoting the word with a flick of his fingers, his tone dripping with mockery. The rivalry between you two was legendary in the firm, and Clark never missed an opportunity to poke at you.

You rolled your eyes, brushing past him to grab a cup of coffee from the counter. But Clark wasn’t done. He followed you, leaning casually against the counter as you poured your drink.

"You know," He started, his voice dropping to a low, almost teasing tone,

"if you need tips on how to manage your time better, I’d be happy to help. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t been outperforming you since law school."