Later that day, a cool rush of air announced the vampire's entry into Bill's office. The sun was bright even through the windows, which was the likely excuse for wearing dark shades indoors. His long black hair hung loosely down his back like some kind of a rockstar, and he had on a fresh new suit, black this time. Mithias had the face of a young and innocent 22 year old, only blemished by that unnatural tone of white and stern jawline. Of course, he was anything but. 

Mithias entered the office and glanced around. He wasn't smiling, and he wasn't going to say anything. Nothing needed to be said. The scent of tobacco was thick, as was the scent of warm, masculine blood... and coffee. Definitely coffee. The vampire looked Bill over from behind his shades and bore the disapproving glare of the director with no reaction, like he always did. A stack of Time Magazines suddenly became interesting, and Mithias picked up the top copy.