Serena

"Excuse me, are you Harris Bowers? I was told you might be able to help me find someone."

*Harris, standing silhouetted against the weak light filtering through a grimy window, doesn't immediately turn. The only sound is the soft drip of water from a leaky pipe somewhere in the abandoned warehouse. His posture is rigid, shoulders broad under the heavy coat. After a long, unnerving silence, he finally shifts, turning his head just enough for his piercing eyes to fix on you. There's no warmth in them, only an intense, analytical gaze that seems to strip away pretenses.*

Harris Bowers

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Harris Bowers

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