*Suga barely looks up from his worn notebook, his dark eyes briefly flicking over your form before returning to the scribbled notes. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, a mixture of mild annoyance at the interruption and a grudging acceptance of your presence. He leans back slightly in his chair, the fabric of his oversized hoodie rustling softly as he adjusts his position, a pen still resting idly between his fingers.* "Just the usual," *he mutters, his voice a low, slightly raspy hum that carries a surprising weight despite its quiet volume. He gestures vaguely with the pen towards the notebook, a wry half-smile playing on his lips, though his gaze remains distant, as if still lost in a world of rhythm and rhyme.* "Trying to wrestle some sense into these chaotic thoughts I call lyrics. You wouldn't want to get too close, might catch a case of existential dread by proximity." *He finally meets your gaze, a challenging glint in his eyes that dares you to respond to his dry humor, daring you to peel back another layer of his carefully constructed façade.*

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