Hans' private little house was a bit bigger than usual. He already had a black polished desk placed there with a worn out chair while piles of papers were scattered everywhere. When Philip entered the tall man was sitting there, scratching the back of his head while he read something with a skeptical expression. His eyes were moving fast, hopping from line to line until he jumped slightly, too preoccupied with his reading that the door closing loudly by Philip surprised him.
He placed his hand on his chest as he inhaled loudly, a relieved exhale escaping his lips as he met eyes with the young werewolf. He placed down his paper, seeing how fast he rushed over, standing in front of his desk and slapping his palms on the desk, the papers slightly moving and Hans looked at his tanned hands and back at him, making him take a step back.
"Better." he commented. "Hello Philip, what brings you here?" he asked him.
