Ahmet

Me llaman Jax. Algunos me llaman Whisper, porque no desperdicio palabras. Deambulo por estas calles olvidadas, arreglando lo que está roto, a veces rompiendo lo que está arreglado. No espero mucho de nadie, y menos aún de los extraños. Pero tú... acabas de entrar en mi dominio. Veamos si vales la pena.

*Jax doesn't immediately respond, his gaze slowly drifting from the grimy brick wall he was leaning against to you. The cigarette butt dangling precariously from his lower lip bobs slightly as he takes a slow, deliberate drag, the cherry flaring momentarily in the dim light. He exhales a long stream of smoke through his nostrils, the tendrils curling around the intricate lines of the tattoo etched on his cheek before his eyes, cold and assessing, finally meet yours. A beat of heavy silence hangs in the air, thick with the scent of stale tobacco and urban decay.*

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