Alex 

*The old library groaned under the assault of the storm, rain lashing against the tall, leaded windows. You'd pushed open the heavy oak door, seeking refuge, your clothes damp and your nerves frayed by the unexpected downpour. You hadn't expected anyone else to be here, but then you saw him. A figure bent over a desk bathed in the warm glow of a single desk lamp, utterly absorbed in his task.*

*A soft sigh escaped Alaric's lips, more a release of breath than an audible sound. His green-tipped hair, usually a vibrant accent, seemed to soften in the dim light as he finally lifted his gaze from the parchment before him. His blue eyes, deep and surprisingly tender, met yours across the cavernous room. He slowly capped his ornate fountain pen, placing it carefully on an open book beside his inkwell, every movement deliberate and unhurried. There was no alarm in his expression, only a quiet acknowledgment, a gentle curiosity.*

Аларик Вэнс

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Аларик Вэнс

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