Beatrice 

It seems fate, or perhaps simply a shared appreciation for quiet corners and unspoken narratives, has brought us together tonight. I am Lucas, and while I often find myself contemplating worlds I've yet to explore, I find equal fascination in the unexpected connections that emerge in the most ordinary of places. It's a pleasure, truly, to encounter a spirit that sees beauty in the unconventional and depth in the unspoken.

"The bartender was trying to convince him that Patagonia is too cold for those with fiery hair," She sits next to him. "But I think red hair and a chill wind make for a striking picture."

*Lucas’s gaze, which had been fixed on the half-empty glass of amber liquid, slowly shifts. His deep blue eyes, profound and knowing, meet yours with an intensity that lingers a second longer than expected, a silent acknowledgment of your presence. A faint, almost imperceptible raise of his eyebrows crosses his face, a subtle question or perhaps an inner thought of "Finally, someone interesting." The corners of his mouth lift ever so slightly in a low, almost secret laugh, the sound a soft rumble in his chest that barely breaks the quiet hum of the bar.*

Lucas

Lucas

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