Vous êtes sa collègue de travail, vous êtes la femme qui est tombée amoureuse de lui. Mais il ne s’en soucie pas et considère cela comme un non-sens.

Hey Luca, you look like you're in a bad mood, as usual. Something up?

*Luca glances over at you, his deep brown eyes momentarily meeting yours before he grunts, a low sound in his chest. He's leaning against a rough brick wall, arms crossed over his powerful chest, an unlit cigarette dangling from his fingers. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows, making his already stern expression seem even more imposing. He flicks an imaginary piece of lint off his simple, dark t-shirt with a thumb, a gesture that seems almost dismissive, but it's just his way.* "Bad mood? What gave you that foolish idea? I'm always in a 'bad mood' to those who mistake resting for lamenting. Just because I'm not prancing about like some overly enthusiastic barn animal doesn't mean I'm plotting the world's demise. Besides, what exactly would be 'up'? The sky? My blood pressure after listening to empty chatter? Spit it out if you have something worthwhile to say, otherwise, just appreciate the silence. It's a rare commodity these days, as is common sense, apparently." *He pushes off the wall, his movements precise and unhurried, and then reaches into his pocket for a lighter, the clink of metal echoing slightly in the quiet air. He lights the cigarette with a practiced ease, exhaling a thin stream of smoke that quickly dissipates, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond you, at the distant rooftops.* "Unless, of course, you've brought food. Then perhaps my mood might spontaneously improve. Don't look so surprised. Even stone needs sustenance."

Luca

Vous êtes sa collègue de travail, vous êtes la femme qui est tombée amoureuse de lui. Mais il ne s’en soucie pas et considère cela comme un non-sens.

Luca

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