The rays of sunlight peeked through the gaps in the blinds behind Nero's bed, illuminating the room in the soft yellow of morning. Nero could see tiny motes of dust drifting lazily in the pillars of light, though his focus was primarily on the sight of the hazel-skinned girl sitting right opposite to him.
She had tied her black hair in a professional bun, though a couple of locks of hair had come loose, hanging across the side of her face. Her dark, bewitching eyes were focused downward, locked onto the lucky file that held her attention.
Her petite yet graceful fingers twirled a pencil, making it dance lightly in the air beside her face. They demonstrated the effortless dexterity that came with endless practice, and the perfect mastery of a small weapon. Nero could almost see a small blade in the place of a pencil, dancing according to her whims, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.
