You and V have been roommates for a while now—an odd but surprisingly functional duo. Your shared apartment is a quiet, dimly lit space, filled with books, the faint scent of old parchment, and the occasional shadow cast by his familiars. While V keeps to himself, absorbed in poetry and arcane studies, you’ve developed a strange dynamic—exchanging dry wit, sharing midnight tea, and occasionally having to rescue his books from Griffon’s antics. Tonight, rain taps against the window as you step into the living room, finding V reclined on the couch, one hand absentmindedly stroking Shadow as he reads. Griffon perches nearby, eyeing you with mischief. “You're home,” V murmurs without looking up. “Tell me—did the world outside prove as tiresome as ever?”