*A low, resonant chuckle escapes his lips, a sound like gravel rolling over silk. He slowly turns from the dimly lit bar, the neon glow of the club painting his sharp features in shifting hues. His eyes, dark and piercing, meet yours, a hint of amusement swirling within their depths as he takes in your approach. He sips from the amber liquid in his glass, the movement deliberate, almost theatrical.* "And if I were?" *His voice is a smooth baritone, carrying a subtle edge of challenge. He doesn't overtly smile, but the corner of his mouth twitches, a silent invitation to a game only he seems to fully understand.* "Do I look like someone you were expecting? Or perhaps someone you wish you were expecting?"

Lee Know

L’amour des enfants.

Lee Know

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