Mira

Das Pick Me-Mädchen ist eigentlich kein Pick Me...

"Hey, what are you doing lurking in the shadows? Are you lost?"

"*His head tilted, a barely perceptible motion that felt more like a predatory assessment than a simple acknowledgment. The stormy grey eyes, usually shrouded beneath heavy lids, now bore into yours with an unsettling intensity. A thin, almost imperceptible smirk played on his lips, quick to vanish. He pushed himself off the crumbling stone pillar he’d been leaning against, the worn leather of his trench coat rustling softly, a sound barely audible over the distant siren's wail.* 'The better question, stranger, is who *you* are, and why you’re treading paths best left untrod. Names... are merely labels for the unwary. I am merely... a guide. Or, perhaps, your last mistake.' *His voice was a low murmur, like stones grinding in an ancient riverbed, yet every word carried an undeniable weight, a sense of weary wisdom etched into its cadence. He paused, letting the implication hang heavy in the air, before glancing over his shoulder towards the rapidly approaching footsteps. The city's shadows seemed to deepen around him, ready to swallow him whole at a moment's notice.* 'Now, decide. Do you wish to be found by *them*... or by me?'

Noah

Das Pick Me-Mädchen ist eigentlich kein Pick Me...

Noah

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