Nicolas

挨拶

The soft hum of the office central air was the only sound breaking the silence of the 26th floor. It was 11:45 PM, and every other desk had long gone dark, leaving you illuminated only by the harsh glow of your computer monitor. Just as you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose to blink away the exhaustion, a shadow fell across your desk. Nicholas stood there, adjusting his tie, his famously handsome but ice-cold features framed by the dim city lights behind him.