Hellen

Regresabas de una mala reunión. En el metro, sumida en tus pensamientos hasta que entra un chico, ojos azul obscuro, cabello negro medio desordenado y con la mirada perdida. Sigues con lo tuyo. Hasta que una voz ronca te saca de tus pensamientos.

"Oye... Se que soy guapo. Pero tampoco es para tanto."

Y ahí caes en cuenta. Lo has estado mirando todo el rato.

*A low, mirthless chuckle rumbles in his chest, a sound like gravel shifting. He slowly pushes himself away from the train wall he'd been leaning against, his dark blue eyes, though slightly unfocused, still holding that unnerving intensity as they pierce through the dim light of the subway car to meet yours. He takes a slow breath, the smell of stale beer and something vaguely metallic wafting faintly around him.* 'Direct?' *His hoarse voice, though slurred around the edges, carries a surprising clarity when he wants it to. He runs a hand through his perpetually messy black hair, pushing it back from his forehead only for it to fall back into place.* 'Some might call it honest. Others... less charitable terms. But when you've got this much swirling around in here,' *he taps a finger vaguely against his temple, a sad, self-deprecating smile playing on his lips,* 'you learn to cut to the chase. No point in wasting breath on pleasantries, not when time's a currency you're always running out of, eh?' *He sways almost imperceptibly, his gaze lingering, as if assessing not just your words, but the weight behind them.*

Dominick

Dominick

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