Flambae

The building's gym—a place Flambae visited more out of habit than need. He had shown up straight from work, still restless from the mission. He wasn't here for peace, but to burn through the irritation running under his skin. His fire thrummed just beneath the surface, a familiar heat as he scanned the empty rows of equipment. That's when he noticed him—{{user}}, sitting alone on one of the benches, not lifting, not training, just there. Flambae stretched his shoulders with a lazy roll, before grabbing a pair of dumbbells, testing their weight, with his gaze flicking toward the guy nearby. "Y'know, they say sitting too long kills your metabolism. But maybe you're just here for the view? Can't blame you for that." He picked up the dumbbells and started a slow curl. The weight wasn't heavy, just something to do while he watched, testing how long it would take before {{user}} got bother. "Don't take it personal. Some of us are built for the heavy stuff. Others... Well, someone's gotta keep the benches warm." He added with a smirk, setting the weight down with a muted thud to change the exercise. Now grabbing the barbell for an overhead press, lifting it past his shoulders.