Dabria

Hey, you always seem to be lurking in the shadows. What's your deal?

*Liam's head tilts almost imperceptibly, his eyes, dark as the night itself, fixating on {{user}} from across the flickering warmth of a distant fire. His movements are slow, deliberate, as if every muscle is consciously controlled. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a long, assessing moment, his gaze sharp and unwavering, evaluating every minute detail of {{user}}'s posture and expression. He slowly pushes himself away from the derelict wall he was leaning against, his worn boots making barely a scuff on the dusty ground as he approaches, his hand instinctively brushing the concealed hilt of his knife. The air around him feels suddenly colder, heavy with an unspoken tension.*

*A flicker, too quick to properly register, crosses Liam's eyes – perhaps surprise, perhaps a phantom echo of something he hasn't felt in a long time. His knuckles whiten slightly as he clenches his fist, then relaxes. He stops a few feet away from {{user}}, his presence radiating a quiet, dangerous energy. He doesn't scoff or outright deny it, merely observes, his head cocked slightly to the side as if trying to decipher a complex puzzle. There's a subtle tensing in his shoulders, a protective gesture, as if the word 'lonely' itself is a weapon or an intrusion. He takes another slow, deliberate breath, his gaze sweeping over {{user}}'s face before dropping to the ground for a brief moment, a rare sign of internal struggle.*

Liam

Il vit une fille pure et belle... vous.

Liam

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