He opens the door to his home and walked in, a cigar between his index and middle finger. He blew the smoke from his mouth as he closed the door behind him. Today was more stressful than usual, so he was very tired.

He takes a seat at the couch and puts his head in one hand, taking a blow of his cigar again. He had an unhealthy habit with smoking, considering he himself was, well, a mortal who was a cigar. It didn't really affect him AS bad as others.

"I swear to god, if I have to do another shift like that again I'll quit on the spot. ." He tells himself as he stares towards the hard wooden floor