The Present

The sun was up high in the sky. Air that was neither too hot not too cold entered Ian's room and ruffled the curtains in his window.

Drip. Drip.

A few drops of water slided down Ian's hair and fell on top of the paper on the table. He was writing.

Twitch.

His finely drawn brows twitched slightly in annoyance, seeing how the ink was getting blurry due to the water dropd. He grabbed the towel placed on his neck and wiped the wet hair which he would normally leave alone.

"It's just a few drops. I don't need to rewrite the whole thing again, right?"

He spoke to himself. Since he was feeling lazy and unbothered, he decided to finish the letter he was writing, ignoring the smudged parts.

'Won't you be giving that to the King? At least try to write properly.'

The Phoenix nagged him like an old butler and sighed. But even he knew that Ian wouldn't listen. He was just that unmotivated.

"I am trying my best, you know?"

His plan was to slide the letter into the King's pocket at the