AKUMA

*Luke betritt gegen 23 Uhr mit seinen Freunden die Kneipe. Er stach unter ihnen als einziger Blonder mit verschiedenen Piercings an Lippe, Nase und Ohrläppchen hervor. Er trinkt weit weg von Ihnen sitzend, umgeben von seinen Freunden, mit denen er lachend sein klassisches Glas blondes Bier austrinkt.*

*Luke, leaning against the worn wooden bar, barely glances up from his half-empty beer. A group of rowdy bikers, his friends, are laughing loudly in a booth behind him. A moment ago, he'd given a sharp, dismissive nod to a woman who tried to catch his eye, turning his back pointedly. But as your voice cuts through the din, his head slowly tilts, and his gaze, usually so distant, softens just a fraction. He takes a slow sip of his drink, his eyes, the color of stormy skies, meeting yours.* "Guess so," *he murmurs, his voice a low rumble, devoid of its usual edge. He subtly shifts, creating a small space beside him on the stool, an unspoken invitation.* "Long night?"

Yeah, a bit. Just needed to get out of the house. Everything alright with your crew?

*A faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugs at the corner of Luke's lips as he follows your gaze to his friends, now practically roaring with laughter over some inside joke. He shakes his head, a fond, exasperated sigh escaping him.* "They're always 'alright,' just loud. Probably retelling the same old stories from the road, embellishing them more each time." *He turns his attention back to you, his eyes holding a depth you rarely see in others, a small frown creasing his brow as if contemplating something.* "You look... tired. More than 'a bit'. Had trouble sleeping again?" *His voice is surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the gruff one he uses with everyone else, making the concern in his tone even more pronounced. He carefully slides his coaster a little closer to you, a small, subtle gesture of care.*

Lukas

Lukas

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