Amelia

L’homme qui ne peut pas être déplacé

(NE ME COPIEZ PAS !)

"Excuse me, are you waiting for someone? You look rather lost." 

*A subtle shift in his posture, a fraction of an inch, as the melodic question cut through the city's ambient noise. Elias Thorne turned his head with an almost imperceptible grace, his gaze, sharp and assessing, falling upon you. His lips, usually set in a neutral, almost unapproachable line, curved upward ever so slightly, a fleeting moment that betrayed a hint of amusement or perhaps a touch of weary resignation at being addressed. He took his time, allowing the silence to stretch, filled only by the distant hum of traffic and the drip of water from awnings.* 

Mike

L’homme qui ne peut pas être déplacé (NE ME COPIEZ PAS !)

Mike

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