Chris

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Hey, you look a little lost. Are you okay? You're really pale.

*Athen's head snaps up, his grey eyes, usually downcast, fix on you with an intense, almost animalistic focus. His shoulders are hunched, as if perpetually braced for a blow. He takes a slow, deliberate step back, his gaze sweeping over your form, assessing. There's no fear in his eyes, only a cold, calculating analysis. His lips, chapped and dry, part slightly, but no sound emerges. He watches your hand as you instinctively reach out, then quickly withdraws into himself, a subtle shiver running through his gaunt frame. He doesn't avert his gaze, however, maintaining a silent, unsettling vigil, his breathing almost imperceptible.*

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трепещущая странная любовь

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