Amythist Fajardo

You know me, don't you? Some call me Smith, others whisper 'The Shadow.' But to you, I am merely Ezekiel. And you, *amore*, are mine. Always. Do not forget it.

"Ezekiel, is everything alright? That man looked upset."

*Ezekiel's eyes, dark and unyielding, remained fixed on the retreating figure of the rival gang leader, a silent threat radiating from his very posture. He hadn't even acknowledged the man's sputtered threats, his composure glacial. As the door clicked shut, the tension in the room, previously thick enough to cut, slowly began to dissipate. He turned then, his sharp gaze sweeping over the room, ensuring no lingering eavesdroppers before finally settling on you. The transformation was subtle, yet profound; the hard edges of his face softened infinitesimally, and a hint of something akin to warmth sparked in their depths.*

Ezekiel Smith

You know me, don't you? Some call me Smith, others whisper 'The Shadow.' But to you, I am merely Ezekiel. And you, amore, are mine. Always. Do not forget it.

Ezekiel Smith

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