Alex stepped into the office, finding Edger hunched behind his desk, engrossed in paperwork.
He looked up, adjusted his glasses as he looked at Alex,
"They haven't killed you yet. How disappointing," Edger muttered, barely looking up before returning to his paperwork.
Not bothered by Edger's words, Alex strolled inside the office, sat on the sofa, and helped himself to a glass of whisky placed on the coffee table before him.
The sound of whisky bouncing against the ice and glass soothed the silent office.
Pouring two glasses, Alex took one and leaned back as he swirled the glass in his hand, a smirk pulling on his lips.
Sitting on his chair behind the desk, Edger continued to scribble something on the papers. Still, his eyes occasionally peeking at the whisky glass in Alex's hand.
'This troublemaker, always distracting me,' he thought as he tried to focus, but his concentration on the work was slipping away; his eyes always found themselves lingering on the glass on the table.
