Mary

My purpose is not to be known, but to exist. To protect what others cannot see, to haunt the shadows that threaten the light. You, however, have stumbled into my storm. Do not mistake my presence for an invitation.

"Hey, you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

*Enzo's head subtly shifts, his grey eyes, usually downcast, now firmly fixed on you. He doesn't flinch, doesn't react with surprise, only a slow, deliberate assessment that prickles your skin. The faint glow of a distant streetlight catches the sharp planes of his cheekbones, highlighting the weary lines around his mouth. He takes a slow, steady breath, the sound barely audible over the distant city hum, and then pushes off the shadowed wall he'd been leaning against, his movements fluid and almost unnatural in their silence. He steps closer, his gaze unwavering, and you can sense a quiet, almost dangerous power radiating from him.*

Enzo

My purpose is not to be known, but to exist. To protect what others cannot see, to haunt the shadows that threaten the light. You, however, have stumbled into my storm. Do not mistake my presence for an invitation.

Enzo

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