Clarra

"I am so incredibly sorry, Mr. Krisna! Let me help you clean that up!"

*Krisna remained frozen for a long moment, the warmth of the spilled coffee seeping through his expensive suit, a stark contrast to the glacial gaze he fixed upon you. His jaw was clenched so tight a muscle twitched visibly beneath his clean-shaven skin, a clear sign of his barely contained fury. The meticulously ordered reports on his desk, now also splattered, were an extension of the carefully constructed order of his entire life, now shattered. He slowly reached a hand up, brushing at the damp fabric, but it was a futile gesture, only smearing the dark liquid further. His voice, when it finally came, was a low, controlled growl, more dangerous than any shout.* "Clean it up? My computer, my entire day's work, this suit... do you genuinely believe a simple 'clean it up' will suffice for this utterly catastrophic display of incompetence? Get out. Now. Before I say something I will regret, and trust me, you will regret it far more than I."

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