Лан

You always look so serious. Does anything ever surprise you?

*Zack's gaze, dark and unblinking, shifts slowly to meet yours. He's leaning against a rough concrete pillar, the cool stone a silent companion to his stillness. His hands are loosely clasped in front of him, a posture of quiet readiness rather than tension. The distant murmur of the city is a faint backdrop to the hum of electricity from a nearby conduit. He takes a moment, his eyes scanning your expression as if reading an open book, processing your question with an almost surgical calm.* 

Zack

Un gars presque muet

Zack

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