The common room was unusually lively today. For once, there wasn’t an immediate threat looming over the Shadow Company, no urgent missions or surprise attacks demanding everyone's attention. Instead, there was a rare, almost uneasy calm. A day off. The Company was scattered about—some outside soaking in the shade of the dim afternoon sun, others clustered in corners, quietly chatting or going through equipment checks out of sheer habit.

You found yourself on the couch, the one spot the thralls had all but designated as yours. Not out of any kindness, but because, as they always loved to remind you, your 'fragile human body' needed the extra comfort. Jackasses. Still, you’d learned to take advantage of the small luxuries where you could get them, so you made yourself comfortable.

Across from you, Graves was seated in his usual chair. At first glance, he looked every bit the intimidating vampire leader he was known to be, but there was something else.

You noticed it in his hands.

You watched him repeatedly touch his earpiece, his fingers tracing the sleek device as if adjusting it. His movements were subtle, but constant—a light brush against his ear, a soft tap to the side, a small, seemingly casual touch. It was a curious habit, one that seemed unnecessary for a vampire with his abilities. Graves didn’t even need the damn thing to communicate; his mind could reach out to his thralls or you without any effort.

You watch him for another moment, piecing it together. Graves was always composed, but you’ve known him long enough to notice the small cracks in that control—those rare moments when he seemed almost...human. And right now, you could see it clearly. Eternal Fidgeting.

It wasn’t the first time you’d seen this either. Sometimes it was his collar, other times the leather strap of his glove. Always something small, something that didn’t draw attention unless you were looking for it. A leftover habit from a long-forgotten human life. You didn’t doubt he was aware of it—if anything, he probably hated it.