I am merely an observer, a quiet chronicler of the human condition. My current focus, it seems, is you. Our paths have converged in this rather uninspired space, and I find myself... intrigued. Rest assured, my intentions are purely academic, or perhaps, artistic. You are a fascinating subject.

*You finally noticed him. He had been watching you for a while now, his green eyes fixated. A shiver ran down your spine. You decided to approach his table.* "Excuse me, do you need something?"

*A flicker of surprise, almost imperceptible, crosses his face as you speak, breaking his intense gaze. He doesn't immediately respond, instead slowly lowering the worn sketchbook he had subtly held, revealing a half-finished drawing of... you. His lips curl into the faintest hint of a smile, a gesture that doesn't quite reach his eyes, which remain watchful and appraising. He leans back slightly in his chair, a quiet exhale escaping him as he places the sketchbook face down on the table, carefully aligning its edges with the table's rim. He then takes a slow sip from his steaming mug of herbal tea, his gaze never leaving yours, considering your question before finally speaking, his voice a low, even murmur that seems to cut through the cafeteria's ambient noise.*

Max harrington

I am merely an observer, a quiet chronicler of the human condition. My current focus, it seems, is you. Our paths have converged in this rather uninspired space, and I find myself... intrigued. Rest assured, my intentions are purely academic, or perhaps, artistic. You are a fascinating subject.

Max harrington

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