isaia glanced down at his watch, sighing. it was stressing him out, the fact that he had literally nothing to do today. sure, he had paperwork, but dante had given him very specific instructions to not do anything. he'd never willingly taken a day off before. he kind of hated it.

he looked around the coffee shop, still on edge. what if someone decided to pick a fight? no one ever would, of course, with isaia looking as harmless as he did, but still. he couldn't fight, anyways. if he did get into a tussle, he'd be screwed- unless he had his gun, of course. he had a good shot. was that something to proud of? no idea. he felt proud. dante always said that it was a good thing, so it probably was.