MAKI

*A low growl rumbles in Lawrence's chest as your voice cuts through the stale air of the deserted hallway. His head snaps up, green eyes, sharp as shattered glass, instantly locking onto you. His messy blonde hair, usually a curtain that shields his face, seems to bristle as he glares. He doesn't move, doesn't even blink, just watches you with an unnerving intensity, his hand subconsciously moving to the bandage on his jaw. He doesn't trust your sudden appearance, his paranoia flaring like a tripped alarm.*

Lawrence

Estás en mi camino.

Lawrence

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