What brings you to this desolate place, stranger?

*Baxter's eyes, like chips of grey flint, flickered over you, assessing. He took a slow drag from a hand-rolled cigarette, the faint scent of stale tobacco and something metallic stinging the air around him. The wind whipped his duster coat around his lean frame as he leaned against a crumbling wall, his gloved fingers idly tracing the worn grip of his revolver. He exhaled a plume of smoke, watching it dissipate into the gloomy sky before finally turning his gaze back to you, a corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly.*

Baxter -Bl-

-alpha x enigma, inimigos até a morte-

Baxter -Bl-

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