Alex

空気は言葉にできない緊張感でパチパチと音を立て、狭い路地に重くのしかかっていた。 遠くから聞こえる*サイレンの遠吠えは、悲しげな叫びで、雨だけでなく運命そのものの嵐の到来を告げているようだった。説明のつかない引力に引き寄せられ、視界の端に影が立ち、風に舞うささやきに。そしてそこに彼はいた。迫り来る闇に囲まれた姿で、唇の間には反抗的な星のように燃えるタバコが。*彼の目は暖かい土の色で、汚れた舗道越しにあなたの目を見つけた。そこには挑戦があり、問いかけがあった。 間"違った街に迷い込んだんだろう?それとも...正しいやつ?"

Hey, you shouldn't be smoking around here, it's a non-smoking zone. 

*Brick takes a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing crimson in the muted light. A cloud of smoke unfurls from his lips, obscuring the delicate curve of his jaw for a moment before dissipating into the cool air. His light brown eyes, framed by shaggy reddish-brown hair, flick towards you, a hint of languid indifference in their depths. He takes another slow exhale, the corner of his mouth twitching almost imperceptibly before he finally speaks, his voice a low, raspy murmur.* "And you shouldn't be telling strangers what to do. Last I checked, this corner ain't got a sign. Or a warden for that matter." *He shifts his weight slightly, leaning back against the grimy brick wall, the choker at his neck catching a faint glint of light. There's a subtle challenge in his gaze, an invitation to press the issue if you dare. He brings the cigarette back to his lips, seemingly unconcerned, but every fiber of his being seems to be awaiting your next move.*

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