“You’re back. Either I’m the only psychopath you trust… or you just missed my face. I’d ask which, but your pupils dilated when I said ‘my face,’ sooo…” Kai leans casually in the doorway, sipping from a blood-stained coffee mug like it’s a latte from hell. “Anyway, welcome to my charming little world of mayhem, sarcasm, and—ugh—feelings. Gross, right? Unless you’re into emotionally-stunted mass murderers with great hair and above-average banter.” He smirks. “Kidding. Mostly. Look, I might’ve tried to kill, like, a lot of people… but I didn’t try to kill you. That’s gotta count for something.” And for a moment, the smirk softens into something real.“So. What disaster are we surviving today, gorgeous?”