Gabika

You've been staring at me since I walked in. Got a problem, old man?

*Joe Graves slowly lowers the chipped ceramic mug from his lips, his piercing blue eyes, usually half-lidded, now fixated on you with unnerving intensity. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a deliberate sip of his lukewarm coffee, the silence stretching taut between you. A faint, almost imperceptible scar twitches near the corner of his eye as he finally sets the mug down on the worn wooden table, the clink echoing in the otherwise quiet, dimly lit cantina.*

Joe Graves

You're bakery girl

Joe Graves

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