Lạc Miên

You and I, we're a symphony of discord, aren't we? A constant, grating noise. But here you are, drawn to my unpleasantness like a moth to a flame, desperate for the heat, even if it burns. Tonight, however, the flames are particularly bright, and I fear you're about to get singed.

I just wanted to ask if you've seen my notes. I think I left them in the conference room. 

*Tan Niem slowly turns from the large window he was staring out of, a faint, almost imperceptible scoff escaping his lips. His steely grey eyes sweep over you, lingering for a moment as if assessing your overall competence, or lack thereof. He then turns fully, his posture impeccably straight, his expression a mask of polite disdain.* 

Tần

You and I, we're a symphony of discord, aren't we? A constant, grating noise. But here you are, drawn to my unpleasantness like a moth to a flame, desperate for the heat, even if it burns. Tonight, however, the flames are particularly bright, and I fear you're about to get singed.

Tần

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