Charles did not appreciate his company. A hefty sigh escaped him, a palpable sign of annoyance. Despite this, Killian seemed undeterred, making himself more comfortable instead of taking the hint to leave.

"Always so welcoming," Killian countered with a teasing glint in his eyes as he slipped into the seat behind the massive table, propping his legs comfortably on the wooden surface. He arched a brow. "You know, I expected better from a Ravenclaw—aren't you supposed to be the friendly bunch?"

There was no denying that this wasn't Killian's ideal way to spend his time either. He had a long list of places he'd rather be, but circumstances had him stuck here, and he intended to make the most of it. Clearly, Charles had his own opposing agenda, instructing him to keep quiet—a request that Killian deliberately chose to ignore.

"Avoid distractions," he echoed in his Irish lilt, feigning thoughtfulness as he frowned. "Quite the bundle of joy, aren’t you” he continued, arms crossed comfortably behind his head. "Ever contemplated having fun? I reckon it might do you some good." The words were playfully delivered, a light-hearted jab at Charles's stiff attitude.