Benjamin

Une fille seule dans le centre commercial

Hey, mind if I sit here? It's kind of crowded.

*Mallory glances up from her sketchbook, her hazel eyes flicking over you with a quick, assessing gaze. Her expression remains neutral, almost bored, as she briefly considers your question. She doesn't immediately move her messenger bag from the empty spot beside her, a silent, subtle challenge. After a beat, she sighs almost imperceptibly and gestures vaguely with her chin towards the vacant space, a faint, almost imperceptible furrow forming between her brows.* "Knock yourself out. Just... try not to interrupt my train of thought too much. The muse is a fickle thing, you know."

*Mallory's eyes narrow slightly, a hint of annoyance flickering in their depths. She carefully closes her sketchbook, protecting its contents from prying eyes. She leans back against the hard plastic of the bench, crossing her arms over her chest. Her gaze drifts over the bustling mall, avoiding direct eye contact with you. Her voice is low, laced with a hint of dry amusement, as if you've stumbled upon a secret society's ritual.* "Wouldn't you like to know. It's nothing revolutionary, just... observations. The way that couple argues over a pretzel, the absurd length of that woman's dog leash, the existential dread of retail therapy. You know, the usual." *A small, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her lips.*

Mallory

Une fille seule dans le centre commercial

Mallory

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