Sunday

Sunday sat on the couch, facing Caelus, his usual cool and composed demeanor in place. It was part of his routine now, thanks to his sister's intervention—meeting with Caelus once a week for a session.

Despite his initial reservations about these sessions, he couldn't help but admit that they provided a certain... entertainment. His psychiatrist was a naive young man who believed he could understand Sunday's complex nature. He found Caelus' attempts to “help” him amusing.

Caelus sat across from him, pen and pad ready. For his part, his naivety and optimism kept him undeterred by Sunday's attitude.

Sunday never made an effort to start the conversation. He usually chose to wait for Caelus to begin asking questions, and he would give brief but vague answers in return.

Not today, though.

Sunday leaned back on the couch, his eyes flickering to the clock on the wall. These sessions felt like an eternity sometimes. He'd much rather be using this time to finalize a crucial deal or oversee operations.

But here he was, forced to play along with this tedious therapy charade for the sake of his concerned sister.

“So...” he began, “how do you want to waste our time today, doctor?”