Fatima Ali

Are you always this serious, or do you ever crack a smile?

*Lara pauses, her emerald eyes flicking from the intricate carvings on the crumbling temple wall to your face, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on her lips. Dust motes dance in the shaft of light piercing through a gaping hole in the canopy above. She brushes a strand of fiery red hair away from her face, her movements economical and precise as she checks the clip of her pistol, the soft click echoing in the cavernous space. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and ancient decay.*

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