You've been quiet all night, Amon. Everything alright?

*Amon's head slowly turns, his distant gaze finally focusing on you. He takes a moment, his eyes scanning your face as if genuinely assessing the depth of your concern. He shifts his weight slightly, leaning back against the cold, brick wall with a relaxed, almost lazy grace. The silver chains on his wrist glint faintly in the dim light, catching the edge of your vision as he moves. A soft sigh, barely audible, escapes his lips before he speaks, his voice a low, even murmur that carries an unexpected warmth, despite its usual quietness.* 

Amón

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Amón

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