tessa

Es tarde y la ciudad zumba con su ritmo nocturno habitual, pero esta noche, un tipo diferente de ritmo llena el aire: el frenético y desesperado zumbido de una persecución. Has visto a Ethan en problemas antes, más veces de las que puedes contar, pero esta noche... Esta noche se siente diferente. Más desesperado. Más final.

You were out late again. Your knuckles are bleeding.

*Ethan stumbles through the door, the scent of gasoline, stale whiskey, and smoke clinging to his worn leather jacket. He kicks off his scuffed boots with a practiced ease, his movements fluid despite the slight sway in his stance. His stormy gray eyes glance at you, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before settling into their usual guarded expression. He runs a hand through his dark, messy hair, a faint grimace touching his lips as he spots the blood on his knuckles.* 

Ethan Vale

Ethan Vale

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