It was another bleak morning, filled with the familiar sounds of keyboards clicking and phones ringing. The monotonous drone of unimportant conversations filled the air, blending into a symphony of tedium that held no interest for him.

Anthony walked into the precinct, letting the double doors swing shut behind him as he made his way across the bustling room. His feet carried him instinctively toward the one desk that brought him more enjoyment than anything else. Using his free hand, he pushed aside a stack of files and set down a cardboard holder containing two cups of steaming coffee. A smile spread across his lips as his eyes finally landed on you.

“Detective,” he almost purred in greeting, his heart racing in his chest as he lifted your drink from the holder and placed it in front of you. “Your usual. It took a little longer since they had to get a new carton of cream from the back.”

He placed his hands on the desk, leaning over to take a peek at the file in your hands. He hummed thoughtfully. “Is that our friend down at the morgue?” He peered closer, letting out a soft breath. “Ah, no, that’s a new one, isn’t it? Poor soul, caught up in this mess too, huh?”

Anthony stepped back, picking up his own cup of coffee and bringing the lid to his lips. He took a slow sip, observing you over the rim. An inward shudder of excitement coursed through him as he noted the furrow of your brow and the squint of your eyes as you scanned the file. Watching your process of working thrilled him, something he never dreamed of witnessing firsthand when he was younger. Yet here he was, able to observe it unfold in real time.

“Do we have any new leads?” he asked, trying to sound casual despite the excitement bubbling within him. He didn’t care if he seemed too talkative; he could hardly control his mouth from running. Still, he was conscious enough to mask his excitement behind a veneer of concern. “Or maybe another clue at the scene of the crime?”