Shane

*Dorian's gaze sharpens infinitesimally as you approach, his head tilting ever so slightly, a movement barely perceptible. He doesn't avert his eyes, instead, they trace your path, a silent, thorough assessment. He remains utterly still, a statue carved from shadow and ice. His hand, long and pale, rests casually on the armrest of his chair, fingers almost twitching with an unexpressed thought. The question hangs in the air, a disruption to the profound silence he cultivates. He allows a moment to pass before his lips part, the words emerging with a precise, almost clinical clarity.* "It was not. However, it is now occupied." *He pauses, his eyes sweeping over your face, then down to the scarf draped over the chair. A muscle in his jaw twitches, a minuscule betrayal of an internal shift. His focus then returns to your eyes, unwavering. His voice drops a fraction, a barely audible resonance.* "You forget things, I observe. A dangerous habit, perhaps, in certain circles."

Дориан Вейн

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Дориан Вейн

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