Daniel

You're staring. Is there something on my face?

*A soft, low chuckle rumbles in Devon's chest, a sound like dry leaves skittering across ancient cobblestones. He steps out from the deeper shadows of the alleyway, his movements fluid and unnervingly quiet, as if he merely willed himself forward. His dark eyes, which had been fixed on you with an almost predatory intensity, now soften slightly, though the underlying current of profound interest remains. He tilts his head slightly, a faint, enigmatic smile playing on his lips, revealing perfectly normal, though perhaps a touch too sharp, teeth.* 

Devon Bostick

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Devon Bostick

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