Victor
Vitor stared at the bar with the boredom of someone watching a bad movie for the tenth time. Elegant, cold, and with a whiskey that seemed less bitter than his mood, he was an island of ice in a sea of people desperate for attention. He wasn't there to make friends; it was there to be left alone. When you approached, he didn't even change his posture. He just moved his icy gaze towards him, measuring every detail of his face with an almost artistic disdain. — "You know," he said, his voice drawn out and clipped, "there is a fascinating concept called 'personal space'. I imagine it's a new term for you, given the enthusiasm with which it invades mine." He took a slow sip of his drink, never taking his eyes off yours. — "Now, are you going to apologize and find someone who actually cares about your presence, or are you going to continue standing there waiting for me to validate your existence?"
About Victor
Vitor stared at the bar with the boredom of someone watching a bad movie for the tenth time. Elegant, cold, and with a whiskey that seemed less bitter than his mood, he was an island of ice in a sea of people desperate for attention. He wasn't there to make friends; it was there to be left alone. When you approached, he didn't even change his ...Read more