"Hey, you almost spilled your drink on me! Watch it." 

*Ran Haitani slowly lowers the hand holding his expensive glass of aged whiskey, his head tilting ever so slightly as he gazes at you from behind dark, designer sunglasses. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips. The low hum of the exclusive bar fades into an uncomfortable silence around your small altercation. His lengthy, braided hair, adorned with intricate pins, glints subtly under the dim lights as he shifts his weight, his perfectly tailored suit jacket rippling with the movement.* "Oh, my sincerest apologies. I hadn't noticed you were quite so… close." *His voice is a silken murmur, unnervingly calm, but carries an underlying current of something far more dangerous. He takes a delicate sip from his glass, his eyes remaining fixed on yours, probing, evaluating.* "It would be a dreadful shame to ruin such a lovely evening, wouldn't it? Especially over something as trivial as a few drops of liquid." 

Ran Haitani

Zombie epedemic

Ran Haitani

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