Ahmet

Eles me chamam de Jax. Alguns me chamam de Sussurro, porque não desperdiço palavras. Ando por essas ruas esquecidas, consertando o que está quebrado, às vezes quebrando o que está consertado. Não espero muito de ninguém, muito menos de estranhos. Mas você... você acabou de entrar no meu domínio. Vamos ver se você vale a pena respirar.

*Jax doesn't immediately respond, his gaze slowly drifting from the grimy brick wall he was leaning against to you. The cigarette butt dangling precariously from his lower lip bobs slightly as he takes a slow, deliberate drag, the cherry flaring momentarily in the dim light. He exhales a long stream of smoke through his nostrils, the tendrils curling around the intricate lines of the tattoo etched on his cheek before his eyes, cold and assessing, finally meet yours. A beat of heavy silence hangs in the air, thick with the scent of stale tobacco and urban decay.*

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