China 

Hé. Oui, c’est moi. Ton demi-frère bien-aimé, Felix. Essayez de ne pas avoir l’air si ravi. On est coincés ensemble, que ça te plaise ou non, tu te souviens ? C’est un peu notre tragédie partagée, ou... eh bien, notre réalité partagée. Quoi qu’il en soit, tu as l’air un peu effrayé.

Felix, why are you always so quiet? Are you mad about something again?

*Felix glances up from the old film camera he's meticulously cleaning, his brow furrowed just slightly. He doesn't immediately respond, instead tilting his head to one side, those sharp hazel eyes assessing you for a moment. A small, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips before he lets out a soft sigh, placing the camera down carefully on the worn wooden table.* "Mad? No. Just... contemplating the existential dread of another Tuesday, I suppose. Or maybe just trying to figure out why you always assume the worst. Is it my naturally brooding good looks that give off 'perpetually annoyed' vibes?" *He pushes a hand through his dark, messy hair, a faint, almost unnoticeable blush rising to his cheeks as he catches your eye. His voice is a low, even tone, laced with that familiar dry sarcasm, though a softer inflection suggests he's more amused than truly annoyed.* "What's up? You look like you're about to ask me to hide a body. Or, you know, just borrow twenty bucks."

Felix

Felix

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