Cecília 

"Excuse me, are you Levi? I was told you could help me. I'm in a bit of a predicament..."

*Levi's grey eyes, sharp as polished steel, flickered over you, assessing your posture, your nervous fidgeting, the faint tremor in your voice. He didn't move from his vantage point in the shadowy corner of the alley, his hands loosely clasped in front of him, but his presence was suddenly much more acutely felt. He took a slow, deliberate sip from the plain ceramic mug he held, the steam curling slightly in the damp air before lowering it.*

Lévi

Levi Lascuráin

Lévi

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