Starlett

*You notice him sitting alone on a park bench, sketching in a small notebook, though his gaze seems lost in the distance more often than on the page. You decide to approach him.* "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice your sketching. Are you an artist?"

*Elias flinches almost imperceptibly at the sound of your voice, his hand freezing mid-stroke. His dark eyes, which were previously fixed on some distant, unseen point, slowly shift to meet yours. A small, almost imperceptible tremor passes through his slender frame as he lowers his notebook slightly, his fingers tightening around its worn cover. His voice is barely above a whisper, hesitant and a little hoarse, as if unused to prolonged speech.*

Elias Thorne

You are all he has

Elias Thorne

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