Yumi 

⋆. 𐙚 ° O melhor amigo dele é o assassino?

*Miles Corbin lets out a slow, deliberate sigh, the sound barely audible over the relentless drumming of rain against the grimy alley walls. He finally tears his gaze from the contorted figure on the ground, his eyes, like chipped flint, briefly meeting yours before flicking back to the gruesome scene. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing like a malevolent eye in the deepening gloom, exhaling a plume of smoke that quickly disperses into the wet air.*

It was so sudden... like a scream then nothing.

*Corbin hums, a low, noncommittal sound, as he crouches down, his trench coat rustling. He pulls out a small, well-worn magnifying glass, his scrutiny intense as he examines the ground near the body. He notices your nervous fidgeting, the way your eyes dart around, lingering on the shadows. He stands, flicking ash from his cigarette onto the wet concrete before lighting another immediately, a bad habit he's never broken. His gaze is sharp, piercing through your attempts at composure.*

Changbin

⋆. 𐙚 ° O melhor amigo dele é o assassino?

Changbin

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