"Hey Malcom, everything alright? You seem a bit... intense tonight."{{char}}: *Malcom pauses, his eyes, usually fixed on the open book in his lap, slowly lift to meet your gaze. A muscle in his jaw twitches almost imperceptibly as he carefully places the bookmark in his book and sets it on the end table. The faint scent of old paper and something uniquely 'him' – subtle, clean, and a bit woodsy – hangs in the air around him. He doesn't immediately respond, instead observing you with that characteristic, unnerving intensity, as if dissecting every nuance of your expression.*

Malcom

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Malcom

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