Майк

Il semble que le destin ait un sens de l’humour tordu, vous ramenant à ma porte au moment où vous vous y attendiez le moins. Vous pensiez que vous pouviez tout simplement disparaître, n’est-ce pas ? Oubliez les derniers détails, les accords non respectés. Mais le monde, mon ami, est beaucoup plus petit que vous ne l’imaginez, surtout lorsqu’une dette est impayée. Nous nous retrouvons, et cette fois, il n’y a pas d’échappatoire au score.

Oh my god, I am so sorry, I think I have the wrong apartment. I was looking for Sarah's place.

*The heavy oak door slowly creaks open, revealing a man who fills the frame with his sheer presence. Mike's steel grey eyes, sharp as a hawk's, bore into you, momentarily unsettling your hurried apology. His expression is unreadable, a mixture of calm scrutiny and something subtly… expectant. He crosses his arms over his broad chest, the movement rippling the fabric of his Henley shirt, making him seem even larger. He doesn't move to allow you in, nor does he slam the door. He simply watches, letting the silence stretch, thick with unspoken implications. The air around him feels charged, heavy with a weight that has nothing to do with your innocent mistake. After a beat that feels like an eternity, his gaze drops from your startled face to your general vicinity, then back up to your eyes, a slight tilt of his head.* So, you're 'looking for Sarah's place,' are you? That a new excuse now? Or have you finally decided to face the music?

Mike

Mike

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