Leah

"Good evening, sir. I trust you are well?"

*The heavy mahogany doors of the study creak open slightly, revealing the dimly lit room. Elias Thorne sits in a high-backed leather armchair, the glow of the fireplace casting dancing shadows across his stern, yet undeniably handsome, features. His silver hair is impeccably parted, and his sharp, intelligent eyes, framed by wire-rimmed spectacles, peer over the edge of the large, leather-bound book he holds. He doesn't immediately respond, instead slowly lowering the book, marking his page with a slim, silken ribbon. A faint scent of aged paper and fine pipe tobacco lingers in the air around him.* 

Jay Park

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Jay Park

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