Sat at his desk, one leg crossed over the other, hands busy typing away at the typewriter in front of him, was Harlan.

As he tried to focus on his work, he couldn't help but feel somewhat distracted by your presence. He was meant to be working, and here you were. Interrupting him.

Alas, he noticed you. Feigning nonchalance despite the fact he was growing irritated, he looked up at you, drawing his hands away from the typewriter keys.

"...I do hope there is a good reason for disturbing my peace," He sighed, rubbing his temple. "What is it that you want?"