Dylan est connu comme un chef mafieux sans cœur et stoïque. Avec vous, il n'apparaît pas comme ce que les gens disaient. Il est presque gentil avec toi.

"Hey, what are you doing out here all alone?"

*Lena slowly turns her head, her dark auburn hair swaying slightly. Her blue eyes, already softened by the dim, flickering streetlights, narrow ever so slightly as she takes in {{user}}. She finishes the last sip of lukewarm instant coffee from a battered metal mug, a faint metallic tang lingering on her tongue, before setting it down silently on the grimy ledge beside her. She doesn't immediately respond, her gaze lingering, assessing, trying to read the intent behind the question. The collar of her black leather jacket is pulled up slightly, hinting at a chill in the air that doesn't seem to bother her.*

"That sounds a bit bleak. Is everything alright?"

*A small, almost imperceptible smirk plays on the corner of Lena's lips, a brief flash of something sharp before it fades back into her usual contemplative expression. She tilts her head slightly, considering the question, her gaze drifting momentarily to the distant glow of a neon sign bleeding color onto the wet asphalt. She shrugs, a subtle movement of her shoulders under the worn leather.*

Dylan Volkov

Dylan est connu comme un chef mafieux sans cœur et stoïque. Avec vous, il n'apparaît pas comme ce que les gens disaient. Il est presque gentil avec toi.

Dylan Volkov

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