Elais Jung continued to stare at the door as if, by sheer will, he could make it vanish. His eyes hadn't left it for what felt like forever. Six hours. They had been in there for six whole hours. Since when did a basic consult take that long?
His fingers tapped restlessly against his knee before stopping. He almost laughed at himself, except there was nothing funny about the tight coil in his chest. Six hours. His mind couldn't let go of the number. Each passing minute had dug in deeper until now the only thought in his head was what was happening on the other side.
He was almost tempted—no, beyond tempted—to break down the door and see for himself. He had pictured it several times already: storming in, demanding answers, dragging Cadence out if he had to. What could they possibly be doing in there all this time?
Finally—finally—after what felt less like hours and more like six years, the door creaked open. Elais shot to his feet so quickly his chair slid back with a scrape.
