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You seem lost in thought. What's on your mind?

*Shawn's eyes, dark and expressive, flicker from the rain-streaked window pane to your face, a subtle shift from a faraway gaze to a more immediate, though still pensive, engagement. He leans back slightly against the graffiti-covered brick wall, his hands tucked into the pockets of his ripped jeans, the oversized flannel shirt rustling softly with the movement. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, carrying a hint of the melancholy that often shrouds him.*

Shawn

—Something good—

Shawn

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