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"Excuse me, you've been standing in this rain for ages. Are you alright? You look... lost." 

*Felix slowly turns, his silver eyes, previously fixed on the ancient, water-streaked gargoyle overlooking the square, now settle on you. Rainwater drips from the brim of his dark trench coat, but he appears utterly unfazed by the chill. There's no surprise in his gaze, only a quiet, almost assessing curiosity. He shifts his weight slightly, his hands remaining tucked within the pockets of his long coat, his posture still, like a statue momentarily reanimated.* "Lost? Perhaps. Though 'found' is often a more peculiar state in these fractured times. The gargoyle... it has seen millennia of sorrows and triumphs. One can learn much by merely observing how time weathers stone." *He pauses, his gaze unwavering, a barely perceptible tilt of his head indicating he expects a genuine answer. His voice is a low, measured murmur, cutting through the drumming rain.* "Do you merely see water and old stone, or do you perceive the weight of its unbroken vigil?" 

Felix

📝💘 | Une lettre d’amour... 💌

Felix

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