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MICHAEL'S suite was bigger than anyone else's in the building. Coraline felt weird following him to it and lingering behind his every move. She looked over her shoulder several times to make sure no one was watching her. Venable was not around, not even a Grey, but it still felt like there were multiple eyes watching as Michael led her to his office.
His room was twice the size of her own. He had a large sitting area with a fireplace and two big, leather chairs. The flames crackled and burned as he held the door open for her. She eyed him precariously before stepping inside, rubbing her sweaty palms on her pants. Coraline jumped slightly when he closed and locked the door behind her. Michael then walked past her to his desk, perched between the fireplace and a closed area, which she guessed was his bedroom.
"So," he spoke loudly, eloquently, "any reason why you're breaking dress code at this hour?"
Coraline wrapped her cardigan tighter around herself. "I didn't expect anyone to find me."
Michael smirked and sat down at his desk. Coraline noticed another chair was placed at the other end of the table, which he gestured for her to sit in. Her feet were frozen. "Are you sure we shouldn't do this another time?" She asked, biting her lip. "Some time more ... professional?"
"Professionalism isn't my forte," he retorted, glancing down at her teeth digging into her bottom lip. Michael crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in his chair. "Sit, please."
Coraline licked her lips and cracked her knuckles before finally making her way over to the chair. His eyes were on her the whole time, calculating every movement. She strode with such confidence before, but under his gaze ... she almost seemed timid. Coraline didn't like feeling that way, like she wasn't in the know. This whole interview process was nearly frightening, since she knew the man sitting before her, but she wasn't scared of him. His judgmental stare would never terrify her. Him being some kind of Chosen One or involved in the End times didn't matter either. Coraline Avery wasn't scared of Michael Langdon.
She sat down and turned her head to the fireplace again. It looked like he had just lit it. She wondered if he had been up because he was focused on the interviews he had so far, or if he was maybe thinking about her. The latter was difficult to bear.
His stare was still on her. He grazed a finger over his mouth as he watched the orange light of the fire dance through her grey eyes. After a minute, she faced him again and pursed her lips. "So are you going to ask me questions, or are you going to sit there and stare at me?"
"Which one would you prefer?"
She paused, looking from his eyes to his wicked lips. "I would like to get this over with so I can sleep."
Michael snickered under his breath, rubbing a finger over his lip. "The rules are simple, Miss Avery –"
"Don't call me that," she interrupted, unafraid to stop herself. "You know my name, and you said you're not one for professionalism anyways."
