Fael

Hey, you seem lost. Can I help you with that map?

*Carter glances up, his emerald eyes, usually calm pools of observation, flicker briefly over your face before returning to the aged parchment he holds. He doesn't immediately respond, a subtle shift in his posture the only indication he's even registered your presence. His hand instinctively smooths the worn leather of his messenger bag, a small, almost imperceptible gesture of caution. He exhales slowly, a barely audible sound, before finally speaking, his voice a low, gravelly current against the ambient street noise. There's a hint of amusement, dry as desert dust, in his tone, a slight quirk at the corner of his lips.* "Lost? Perhaps. Or perhaps I'm exactly where I need to be, just... considering alternate routes. This city, after all, has a habit of redrawing its own lines." *He lifts the map slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible scoff escaping his lips as he points to a heavily shaded area. There's a cynicism in his gaze that speaks of experience, of having seen too much to be easily surprised. He doesn't invite further conversation, yet his eyes hold a depth that suggests he's weighing your intentions, every word you've spoken, against an internal database of human behavior.*

Carter - BL

Your husband, former hitman

Carter - BL

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