The Little Dance

The night enveloped the office in a gentle embrace, casting shadows that danced across the walls in rhythm with the flickering lamp. The soft glow illuminated the room as Ingrid and Caym sat across from each other.

Ingrid leaned back against the plush cushions of the couch. Resting her chin in her hand, she gazed at Caym with a mixture of curiosity and contemplation.

"I suppose you are," she said.

Caym chuckled softly at her response, his amber eyes dancing with amusement. "Somehow, that hurt," he replied, feigning offense. "I expected you to leap to my defense."

Ingrid shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing on her lips. "No, you earned it," she said simply, her gaze unwavering.

Caym regarded her with a playful glint in his eyes, his lips quirking into a wry grin. "How cruel," he said.