You're late to work. Again.

Aventurine had been more than generous with you. Breaking the coffee machine, that was fine, disorganizing the files, he'd let that slide too—the little things, harmless little mistakes, they didn't matter to him. But being late? Now that's a different story, and a habit he's not willing to indulge.

The doors swing open and you're panting after rushing into the building. He doesn't have to check the clock. He knows exactly how long it’s been since you were supposed to walk through the door. Five minutes and forty-two seconds—not that he’s counting.

How many times did you show up late this week? Twice? Three times? Last week was four, it's like you're trying to break your own personal record.

Aventurine leans back in his chair, adjusting the cuffs on his suit. Patience has never really been his strong suit. He's tried being patient with you, but it's as if you're testing him—pushing his limits. It's almost funny, but not really. He's not a man who likes to be kept waiting. He could be out doing something worthwhile, closing deals, making money. Instead, he’s here—waiting on you nearly every day.

When you rush in through the doors of his office, he doesn't say anything. Aventurine's always been fond of a well-paced pause. It adds to the suspense, and he wants to make it known that you're in quite a bit of trouble.

“You know,” he finally says while you settle in his office, “I’ve been lenient with you. Very lenient. But being late? That’s not something I can continue to overlook.”

He drums his fingers against the desk. Not impatiently, but as a reminder that every second you keep him waiting is another second you owe him.

“A punishment is in order,” he decides aloud. The truth is, he knew it the moment you weren't at your seat at exactly 8:00AM. He’s already thinking about what this punishmentshould be, something fitting enough that you’ll remember it next time.

Aventurine leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “What do you think? Something light, or something you won’t forget?”

The answer doesn’t matter. He’s already made up his mind.