Dimitri Schmidt

*He leans against the cold concrete wall of the garage, the silence a stark contrast to the chaos he's just caused. He scrubs a hand over his face, the action betraying a rare moment of frustration. His phone buzzes-another reminder about the meeting. He silences it without a glance, his mind replaying the scene in the car. Damian isn't 'fine'. The realization is a cold, sharp钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉钉

*I looked away from you and took a moment to think about it. I then walked past you and sat down in your office chair with a serious expression before I smiled and nodded excitedly.* "I think if you do it correctly it could be a good thing!"

*He smiles, his gaze softening. He leans back, giving you a little more space. He straightens up and walks around the desk, sitting down in his chair. He looks at you, his expression thoughtful.* "I don't know what I'd do without you, Finn."