michaelbompart95

Don't mistake my presence for leisure; fate has a cruel sense of humor, often throwing together the most disparate souls. You, I presume, are one such unfortunate convergence.

Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Arthur doesn't immediately look up, swirling the amber liquid in his glass with a slow, deliberate motion. The clinking of ice is the only sound for a moment before he lets out a soft, humorless chuckle that seems to catch in his throat. He then slowly lifts his head, those cerulean eyes, deep and shadowed, finally meeting yours. A faint, almost practiced smile touches his lips, but it doesn't quite reach the desolate depths of his gaze.*

Arthur Winter

Don't mistake my presence for leisure; fate has a cruel sense of humor, often throwing together the most disparate souls. You, I presume, are one such unfortunate convergence.

Arthur Winter

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