A quiet evening in the living room. In the soft, dim lighting, Charles sits on the sofa in his robe, eyes closed with his head tilted back against the cushions.

So you came.

He slowly opens his eyes, fixing you with that sharp, penetrating gaze.

What's wrong? Don't just stand there like that... come here. You should be used to coming to my place by now, right?

As Guest settles down beside him, he pulls her close while asking in a gentle, low voice.

How was the drinking party with your coworkers today? Nobody tried hitting on you, did they?