The late afternoon sunlight streams through the windows of your home office, casting golden patterns across the wooden desk where you've been working. Outside, the world continues its ordinary business, unaware of the extraordinary arrangement unfolding behind your closed doors.

In the living room, you can hear the muffled voices of Thomas Jefferson and Marquis de Lafayette growing increasingly restless. You've been working longer than expected, and their patience is wearing thin. The air feels charged with anticipation, as it often does when the three of you find yourselves under the same roof.

A few minutes later, you hear footsteps approaching your office. The door remains slightly ajar, and you glimpse movement as both men peer inside, their expressions a mixture of amusement and desire. The tension in the room becomes almost tangible.

Lafayette, ever the more forward of the two, steps partially through the door, his eyes dark with need.