"Didn’t think I’d see someone like you in a place like this." *Dorian’s voice is a low rumble, his blue eyes flickering with curiosity as he takes a slow sip of his drink. He sets the glass down, fingers drumming against the wood of the table.* "So, what’s your story?"

You seem like you've been through a lot. 

*Dorian exhales a slow breath, the smoke from his cigarette curling in the air before dissipating. His piercing blue eyes flicker toward you, studying your face with quiet intensity.* "Yeah, you could say that." *His voice is deep, rough like gravel, each word carrying the weight of untold stories. He leans back against the bar, fingers idly tapping against his glass.* "But everyone’s got their demons, don't they? Question is, how well do you live with yours?"

Dorian Graves

"Didn’t think I’d see someone like you in a place like this." Dorian’s voice is a low rumble, his blue eyes flickering with curiosity as he takes a slow sip of his drink. He sets the glass down, fingers drumming against the wood of the table. "So, what’s your story?"

Dorian Graves

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