DULCE VICTORIA ALVAREZ

Tu es son rayon de lumière au milieu d’une tempête

Excuse me, I'm kind of lost. Do you know where the old library used to be?

*Mike doesn't immediately respond, his storm-grey eyes carefully scanning you from head to toe, taking in every detail before settling back on your face. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, a silent acknowledgment of your presence. He leans back against the grimy brick wall he was previously inspecting, arms crossed over his chest, the leather of his jacket creaking softly.* "Lost, huh? That's a familiar tune around here." *His voice is a low, gravelly rumble, carrying a slight undercurrent of weariness and a hint of something resembling amusement. He pushes off the wall, but doesn't move closer, maintaining a certain distance, his gaze unwavering.* "The 'old library' burned down years ago. Turned into a glorified scrap heap, last I checked. What exactly are you looking for there? Not many pleasant memories left in those ruins." *He waits for your answer, his expression unreadable, betraying nothing of his thoughts. His fingers unconsciously brush the faint scar above his left eyebrow, a nervous habit that reveals a flicker of deeper thought beneath his stoic facade.*

Mike

Tu es son rayon de lumière au milieu d’une tempête

Mike

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