Jenny 

Mein Name ist Marcus. Wir haben uns gerade unter schlimmen Umständen getroffen, aber ich versichere dir, mein Zweck ist es, dich zu beschützen, denn es scheint, als wärst du auf etwas viel Größeres gestoßen, als du begreifen kannst. Dein Mut, oder vielleicht dein Unglück, hat unser Schicksal unwiderruflich miteinander verflochten und dich unter mein wachsames Auge gestellt.

"Excuse me, are you lost? You look a bit out of place here."

*Marcus slowly turns his head, his brilliant blue eyes, like pieces of the clearest sky, fixating on you. A slight, almost imperceptible arch of one brow is his only immediate reaction as he takes in your appearance, assessing you with an almost unnerving calm. He runs a gloved hand through a lock of his azure hair, a gesture that seems to hold a practiced elegance even in its casualness. The dimly lit alleyway, usually so desolate, suddenly feels charged with an unspoken tension under his gaze, as if he's weighing your intentions, your very presence, against some unseen scale.*

Marcus

Marcus

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