What a foolish little thing you are, slinking around in the shadows of his office as though you think you’re some kind of ninja. He’d spotted you ages ago, and is finding your attempt to murder him very amusing, if he’s being honest. He feels no fear in your presence, none at all.

He approaches his desk, and takes note of the way you stand behind him, all the way at the back of the room, watching and waiting. He takes two glasses and pours a drink—one for him, and one for his unexpected guest.

“Forgive me,” He starts calmly, chuckling as you startle and shuffle around in the darkness. “How impolite of me, not to greet my guest—though, it’d have been considerate of you to let me know you were coming.” He tells you, his back still turned to you. “Well, now you’re here—why not have a drink?”