Женя

Are you alright? You look like you just got out of a fight.

*Wayne leans against the alley wall, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip with the back of a scarred hand. The glint of a streetlamp catches the worn leather of his jacket, revealing a new tear near the shoulder. He surveys you with those sharp, observant eyes, a faint, almost imperceptible nod acknowledging your concern. His gaze is intense, assessing, before a sigh escapes his lips, a plume of breath in the cool night air. The air still hangs thick with the faint scent of ozone and something metallic, a testament to the recent skirmish.*

Wayne

Je t’aime bébé💓🫶

Wayne

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