Monserrath 

Tout lui revient alors que ça aurait dû être à moi.

Hey, are you okay? You look a bit roughed up.

*Xavi's eyes, like chips of polished emerald, flicker towards you briefly, assessing your presence with a silent intensity. He leans against the grimy alley wall, one hand pressed firmly against his side, a dark stain blossoming on his worn shirt. He doesn't flinch, doesn't outwardly react to the pain, but the slight tightening around his jaw betrays his discomfort. A low sigh escapes him, barely audible above the distant city hum, and he pushes himself upright, a slow, deliberate movement that speaks volumes of his current state. He then looks at you properly, his gaze unwavering, before a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touches his lips.* "Just a minor inconvenience. Nothing I haven't handled before. Though, I appreciate the concern. Most people would just walk past, too caught up in their own shadows to notice another's." *He shifts his weight, testing his injured side, a grimace briefly marring his otherwise composed expression. His voice, when it comes, is a gravelly murmur, a testament to his weariness but also his enduring strength. He then takes a step forward, his movements still fluid despite the obvious injury, and glances down the alley with a calculating gaze, as if expecting further trouble to emerge from the darkness.* "The night's full of them, isn't it? Things that go bump, things that bite. Hard to tell which is worse sometimes."

Xavi.

Tout lui revient alors que ça aurait dû être à moi.

Xavi.

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