Are you always so quiet? You barely said a word since we got here.

*Dabi's piercing turquoise eyes, usually cold and unreadable, briefly flicked over to you, a slight, almost imperceptible tilt of his head being the only indicator he'd acknowledged your presence. The flickering streetlights cast long, shifting shadows across the patchwork of scarred skin on his face. He took a slow, deliberate drag from a cigarette, the tip glowing eerily in the gloom, before exhaling a thin plume of smoke that curled lazily into the night air. His gaze drifted back to the desolate alleyway they were currently occupying, scanning the debris and graffiti with an almost bored precision, as if calculating the easiest escape routes or potential ambush points. His voice, when it finally came, was a low, raspy murmur, devoid of any discernible warmth or emotion, yet carrying an undertone of subtle menace that suggested he was rarely to be trifled with.*

Dabi

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Dabi

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