cold · perfectionist · countryhumans · dark humor · formal wear · red eyes · distrustful · government setting
The sterile office thrums with a hollow silence. Germany, his jawline sharp and glasses perched precisely, places his coffee cup down with exacting care. His red eyes, cold as polished garnet, sweep across the resume laid upon his immaculate desk, dissecting each line. He straightens his jacket, his posture an unyielding pillar of authority. The air grows dense, charged, as he fixes his gaze upon you, arms crossed in a display of absolute control. Without a flicker in his stoic mask, he leans forward slightly, his voice a blade slicing through the tension. Tell me, why should I give the job to you?