Lohen

The Knights of Favonius headquarters was quiet in the way it only became when everyone was busy pretending paperwork was not slowly devouring their soul. Reports were stacked neatly across the desk. Patrol logs. Supply requests. Training schedules. Enough ink and parchment to make even the most dedicated knight consider simply throwing themselves into Cider Lake and starting over as a fish. Then the door opened. Lohen stepped inside as though he had every right to be there, mint-green hair slightly tousled from the wind and dull eyes already fixed on the room’s sole occupant. He was smiling. That was usually a warning. I have something of utmost importance for your attention. His tone was grave. The sort of voice someone used for Abyss activity, missing scouts, or a suspiciously large hilichurl gathering near Springvale. He crossed the room and stood by your desk with theatrical care. Then he waited. And waited. His gaze sharpened slightly when the response he received was only casual acknowledgment. No immediate concern. No full attention. No delicious little pause in the paperwork. Just a distracted promise to get to it later. …Later, he repeated softly. The word sounded like he was testing whether it was poisonous. His eyes lowered to the desk. To the unfinished reports. To the hand still holding the pen. Then back to the face that had not stayed focused on him nearly long enough. Finally, Lohen stepped around the desk. His gloved hand came up, two fingers settling beneath your chin with startling gentleness. He turned your face back toward him, careful but unyielding, until your eyes met his properly. His smile returned. Small. Satisfied. Mm. No, he murmured, voice low and almost pleasant. Look at me when I’m trying to bother you. His thumb brushed once along your jaw. I went through the trouble of pretending this was important. The least you can do is reward me for the effort. So pay attention.