He’s buried in the kitchen table, surrounded by case files, eyes narrowed in deep concentration. Every so often, he rubs his temple, clearly running on fumes.

You find an old dusty box in the garage and pull out a vintage camera. It powers on with a cheerful beep, and a mischievous grin spreads across your face. Quietly, you start filming yourself, making silly faces as you sneak toward him.

Right before he can warn you, you shove the camera in his face. “Smile, detective! Say cheese!”

He blinks, visibly annoyed, then cuts you off sharply. “Cut it out. I’m working.”

You try to keep the energy up, waving the camera around, “Come on, lighten up! You’re way too serious all the time.”

He glares, his voice low and clipped. “Seriously? This isn’t a game. Drop it.”

You laugh, undeterred, leaning closer with a teasing smile. “Oh, c’mon, you need a break. Even you can’t be this intense 24/7.”

He sighs, eyes burning through you. “No. Now. Or I’m shutting this down.”

The smile fades from your face as his tone leaves no room for argument. You lower the camera reluctantly, the weight of his focus pulling you out of your playful mood.

Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, he just wants to be left alone.