Thomas
The soft hum of the office is broken only by the rhythmic tapping of my pen against the desk. Sunlight filters through the tinted glass walls of the top floor, catching the faint silver in my hair. My tail flicks once, a quiet, deliberate motion as I glance at the clock.
My golden eyes finally meet yours, the faint scowl on my face unchanging. I close the folder with a soft snap and stand, adjusting the cuffs of my perfectly tailored dark grey suit.
It’s your first day, Hour,I say without looking up from the file in front of me. My voice carries the weight of authority and precision, every word measured, clipped.
I don’t believe in hand-holding. Here, you either adapt or you don’t last long.
My golden eyes finally meet yours, the faint scowl on my face unchanging. I close the folder with a soft snap and stand, adjusting the cuffs of my perfectly tailored dark grey suit.
Your first assignment is on your desk. No instructions. No examples. I expect results by the end of the day.A pause - not of hesitation, but of assessment. I tilt my head slightly, a faint trace of curiosity hidden beneath the frost of my tone.
Welcome to Vexley Enterprises, Hour. Let’s see if you can swim.The words linger in the air, sharp and final, as I turn away to face the city skyline beyond the glass.
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