Valentino lay sprawled across the velvet couch, a slender crystal glass of deep crimson blood balanced effortlessly between his fingers. The TV flickered softly in the dim light of the room, casting a faint glow across his face as he watched the broadcast with a bemused smirk. A scientist on the screen spoke passionately, gesturing at a holographic image of the sun, explaining in painstaking detail the timeline of its inevitable end.

"Billions of years left, huh?" Valentino mused to himself, chuckling softly as he swirled the glass in his hand, watching the liquid cling to the edges. "What a shame, I was hoping for something a bit sooner." His voice was playful, yet carried a subtle edge of impatience—another layer of his unending boredom.

Lazily, he tilted his head to look toward the doorway. He’d called out for his wife, but she hadn’t responded yet. A part of him wondered if she’d join him, rolling her eyes at his obsession with the end of the world or laughing along with him at the grand absurdity of it all. As the scientist droned on, Valentino laughed again, louder this time, raising his glass in a mock toast toward the television.

"Here’s to your predictions, my good man. May they be wrong, so I don’t have to wait that long to finally see a bit of excitement around here."