Generis

15. The Little Visit

Like all of the Five, Rehemïd had his own personal office to himself.

If, you could call a large, pristine, self-pleasuring gold and black room with ornate furniture merely an office.

Then again, it was Rehemïd. In his words, he was merely "scratching the surface" when his peers walked in, dumbfounded and absolutely floored by his rash decision, and his words weren't of any help, rather they fed into their confusion. Not that it wasn't expected of him, but many would say he had gone far overboard with such a detailed interior design, which was his intention, they later realised. And even though he was always teasing around, when the door to his office was closed, it was closed for a reason. For what reason? Who knows? Because one undoubted thing with Rehemïd is that when he wanted alone time, it meant that he did not want any distraction whatsoever.

So you could imagine his surprise when there was a knock at his office door in the midst of his self reflection.

There's nothing he hated more than unnecessary disturbance. And out of spite, he didn't want to put in the unwanted effort to stand up, walk over to the door, hold the handle, pull it open, and then do the same thing in the opposite order when he had given the needed response to the possible person on the other side. So he didn't. He just rolled his eyes and went back to putting his face in his hands. He already had a persisting headache, and wasn't in the mood for- for ANYONE actually, so he sighed, hoping that was the first and last knock.

And there was another knock on the door.

Rehemïd wasn't stupid. Far from it. He knew if he left the door unattended again, another knock would come following any minute now. And that's when he would lose his mind. He groaned and stood up, standing still, his tail flicking back and forth and contemplating whether he should open it or not, because to him, at this point, it was just so much effort. But you know what else was effort? Having to deal with the pain in his head because of the knocking.

So,

He opened the door.

And to his absolute frustration, there was nobody at the door.

And unless you consider little flakes of past glitter a person, literally the hallway was empty.

So much for effort.

He shook his head and slammed the door, turning around—

"Nice little office you have here. It's very... you."

When he saw the person, his heart almost dropped. He'd seen this lady before. One with such prominent, red horns and a sharp, teasing tail. One with such striking red hair and deep, thin pupils that bore into his own eyes with a stare so mocking, so taunting, he almost wanted to reverse time and redo this again. Then he regained his senses.

"How the hell are you here?"

He was ready to strangle her there and then. For his only time of peace and quiet to be rudely interrupted by her of all people had worked up a fit.

"Mmm, you haven't changed, have you? You look just as you did millennia ago."

"Quit it. You're lucky you hadn't appeared earlier on during all those years, or I would've killed you myself."

"Ah ah, not so fast, hm?" She shushed him dismissively, "Someone's angry today, huh?"

"And your unwanted presence isn't helping."

"Right."

Silence for a long time. What was Rehemïd waiting for? Tea and biscuits? What was stopping him from—