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"Uriel, please come down to your father's office," his mother ordered passively. There was no hint of happiness, nor anger laced in her vapid tone: it just sounded like grey, like nothing. Bowing lightly, Uriel submissively nodded, trudging to his father's office as he left the pampered lady behind.
What could he possibly want? His father rarely spoke to him unless he was scolding him, or needed something, or both. Anxiety nipped away at his skin like the pesky cold of snow, all the way through to the pits of his stomach.
Reaching the grand, oak door, he bit the inside of his cheek rather harshly, drawing the metallic tinge of blood. He shook his hand, desperate to just get this over with, so he could go visit his friend. He knocked thrice.
A short moment of silence hovered incessantly over Uriel's head, weighing down heavily on his nerves. He heard a muffled voice slip through the cracks of the sound proof door, and he
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