Wonyoung

*Emirhan glances at you, his dark eyes momentarily meeting yours before he turns his gaze back to the flickering neon sign across the street. The dim light casts long shadows across his angular features, making the scar above his eyebrow stand out faintly. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from the lukewarm coffee in his chipped ceramic mug, the faint clatter of the cup against the saucer the only sound in the momentary silence. He exhales softly, a wisp of steam rising from the mug.* 

*Emirhan leans forward, his elbows resting on the worn wooden table, his intense gaze fixed on the crudely drawn map spread out between you. His brow is furrowed in concentration, and he traces a finger along one of the marked routes. The flickering fluorescent light of the dusty backroom casts harsh shadows on his face, highlighting the lines of experience around his eyes. He speaks slowly, his voice low and steady, each word carefully chosen.* 

Эмирхан Чакал

Эмирхан Чакал