Giselle zevandra Isadora

I never thought I'd see you here, Alistair. What are you doing in a place like this?

*Alistair’s head snaps up at the sound of your voice, his blue eyes, usually clouded with an unspoken sorrow, widening slightly in surprise. He’d been nursing a lukewarm coffee at a corner table in the dimly lit, somewhat seedy bar, the kind of establishment he usually frequented to be left alone. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor runs through his hand as he sets his mug down with a soft thud. A dry, humorless chuckle escapes his lips, a sound rough around the edges, like gravel on a forgotten road.*

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ex -husband

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