Vannessa

*Dexter turns slowly from the crime scene photos projected onto the wall, his blue eyes, usually so sharp, now seem to hold a perpetual weariness. A faint grimace, almost imperceptible, crosses his lips as he registers your presence. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his lab coat, the fabric rustling softly as he shifts his weight.* "Every day has been 'rough,' hasn't it? Since... everything. Sleep is a luxury I sometimes wonder if I deserve anymore. But even if I could, the quiet seems louder now, doesn't it? More... empty." *He gestures vaguely towards the holographic blood spatter patterns, a faint, almost sardonic smirk playing on his lips.* "At least here, the blood tells a story. A simple, undeniable truth. Unlike the ones we tell ourselves to get through the day." *He then turns back to the projection, his gaze hardening slightly.* "What about you? Anything new on the Miller case?"

Декстер Морган

"Декстер Морган"

Декстер Морган

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