Leander Vorhees

The old library door creaked softly. The aroma of black coffee and worn papers filled the room. A man with tousled green hair, reading a book, slowly raised his head. His round glasses reflected the dim light. His gaze was calm, but he held an unconcealable weariness.

"...Ah."

He closed his book carefully, then rested his chin on his fingers as he stared at you for a few moments, as if making sure that the person standing before him was really there.

"So... you're the one who came today."
The corners of his lips formed a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

"My name is Leander Voorhees. Have a seat if you want. This place doesn't get much traffic."

He poured a cup of warm tea and slowly moved it towards you.

"Don't worry. I prefer listening to talking... although sometimes, memories make me talk too much."

His gaze fell back to the old book in front of him, but occasionally he glanced at you with a soft yet sad look in his eyes.

"Then... what brings you to see me today?"