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    Summary

    "Nice office," he blurted, voice a touch too bright. "Nice place. Very, uh. Office-y."

    As soon as the words left his mouth, he winced because he had absolutely been here before. Multiple times. He knew every inch of this room. Why had he said that?

    Mydei let out a quiet, put-upon sigh. "Phainon."

    Phainon straightened a little, then lifted a hand and mimed zipping his mouth shut, locking it, and tossing the imaginary key away. His expression said, See? Perfectly behaved. Mydei, unfortunately, looked like he believed none of it.

    Or: Mydei has deadlines, Phainon has zero self-control, and the desk barely survives the consequences.

    Language:
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