"Boss!"
The door flew open so violently it hit the wall, and Henry burst inside like a man being chased by the apocalypse.
Daniel slowly lifted his gaze from the document he was signing, expression flat, watching his assistant bend over with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath.
"You know," Daniel began dryly, "my desk and your office are separated by what… eight steps?"
Henry wheezed. "T-ten, sir— if you count the corner—"
Daniel raised a brow. "And you're panting like you ran a marathon. Are you not exercising, Henry?"
Henry straightened immediately, fixing his posture as if that would erase the dramatic entrance he had just made.
"I— I do exercise, boss! Every morning!" he insisted… far too quickly.
Daniel's lips twitched faintly. "Running from your problems doesn't count."
Henry choked on air.
"I— I don't run from my problems, sir!"
"You just sprinted into my office like one was chasing you."
