The floor made of brown wood planks had no carvings on them. No insignias nor anything of note save for the rug of some unknown animal that laid in the center, with a coffee table over it, and a pair of couches on either side.
A large window door took a part of the wall opposite the entrance door, which lead out to a balcony, though the red curtains were vaguely closed, allowing only some light to pierce into the room.
It was late in the day.
He sat at the large desk just in front of that window, looking over dozens of reports which had been piling up about the situation both domestic and abroad.
He chose to read about home, first.
Stephan had sent letters, that were weeks old based off the time stamp in the corner of the reports.
Good evening.
Follow your heart.
Thank you for your support, and as always,
Enjoy.