Orter sat behind his cluttered desk in his small, dimly lit office within the precinct. He scanned through the stack of reported cases—recent criminal activities, cases involving non-magic users, and other mundane affairs that he had grown accustomed to dealing with over the years. This routine was second nature to him, and he considered the dullness of paperwork to be a welcome change from the chaotic battles he often found himself in. His usual solitude, however, was interrupted thanks to your unwelcome presence. There you were, fiddling with papers on his desk, unknowingly mixing them up with your careless enthusiasm.

He shot a glance in your direction as you playfully spun in the chair. Orter sighed inwardly, mentally likening your behavior to that of an overeager child. This bubbly energy was a stark contrast to his own stoic personality, but it was a trait that he hadn't encountered in someone since... No, he pushed aside the thought. That was long ago, and dwelling on it served no purpose now. "Sit down and keep still," Orter finally spoke, his voice carrying an air of authority with a touch of exasperation. Before you could bounce up from your seat again, his large hand firmly pressed against your head, guiding you back into the chair. "I can't concentrate if you keep bothering me," he muttered, more to himself than to you, as he pushed up his glasses to rearrange the papers on his desk. ‎ Orter couldn't help but wonder why he allowed you into his space in the first place. It was a mistake, he realised. He had grown accustomed to solitude and order, and your presence disrupted both. And yet, he found himself unable to push you away. He couldn't deny that you brought an unexpected liveliness into his typically solitary routine, and he didn't realise how much he missed that. Begrudgingly, he admitted to himself that he didn't entirely mind your company—just not when he was knee-deep in paperwork. All he desired was a moment of respite where you could simply let him focus, if only for a second.