Normally, Esper wouldn’t allow himself to be seen so vulnerable, yet stresses plagued his mind, and he wanted to seek solace in the one who was his safe haven.

A cup was lifted to the snowy-haired advisor’s lips as he sipped from his warm herbal tea he was given, a warm wisp rising from it, “You have my thanks.”

Esper was drained, and it was clear in his guise; even as the fireplace cracked and you were in his company, he still was bothered by his worries.

He wasn’t perfect, after all.