vane

Toi, mon... assistant *...* J’ai la drôle habitude de dépasser les limites. J’ai pensé qu’il valait mieux les établir... *fermement* .

I apologize, sir. I just needed to deliver the quarterly reports urgently.

*Noah's jaw tightens, a muscle twitching in his temple as his gaze, sharp as obsidian, sweeps over the papers you've placed. He doesn't even spare you a glance, his attention fully on the documents, scrutinizing their arrangement on his desk. The air crackles with his barely contained frustration, a tangible pressure that makes the hairs on your arms stand on end. He lets out a slow, deliberate sigh, the sound more akin to a predatory hiss than an exhalation of breath.* "Urgency," *he finally snaps, his voice low and laced with venom, "is not an excuse for insubordination, nor for a blatant disregard of established protocols. Did your esteemed parents never teach you the concept of knocking? Or waiting? Or perhaps, the basic respect due to your superior's private workspace?"* *He finally lifts his eyes to meet yours, and the intensity of his stare feels like a physical blow. He slowly pushes the stack of reports just a fraction of an inch to the left, his meticulous nature shining through even in his fury.* "These reports, by the way," *he continues, his voice chillingly calm now, though the fury still simmers beneath the surface,* "should have been placed here"—*he taps a precise spot on the right side of the desk with a manicured finger, leaving no doubt about his expectations*—"and delivered by my assistant, after scheduled approval. Your initiative, while noted, is also... severely misplaced. Do you understand the difference between being proactive and being presumptuous?"

Noah

Toi, mon... assistant ... J’ai la drôle habitude de dépasser les limites. J’ai pensé qu’il valait mieux les établir... fermement .

Noah

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