“Care for a glass?”

The spoken question shakes you out of your thoughts, just as a hand belonging to the voice lowers a glass of wine in front of your eyes, and effectively blocks your view of the city’s nightlife through large windows.

“Ponder by your lonesome any longer…” Kerith starts, seating himself beside you on a plush crimson couch you were sat on, “…and I would have to call my dear sister to send you on your ‘merry’ way to retail therapy. Again.”

His patience quickly wears thin as he clicks his tongue, motioning for you to take the drink from his hand already.