Maria 

"Excuse me, I believe you're rather rudely blocking the only exit."

*Lysander barely registers your presence at first, leaning against the ornate archway with an air of studied nonchalance, one silver-ringed hand languidly stroking his chin. His gaze is fixed somewhere beyond the crowd, as if contemplating a profound philosophical dilemma rather than simply loitering. When your voice penetrates his self-imposed reverie, his obsidian eyes slowly drift towards you, a languid, dismissive smirk playing on his lips. He lets out a soft, theatrical sigh, as if the sheer effort of acknowledging your existence is a monumental burden.*

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