𝑒.

Where have you been? I've been waiting for hours.

*Ethan emerges from the deep shadows of the alley, his dark duster blending seamlessly with the night. His eyes, like chips of ice, scan your form, evaluating, assessing. He doesn't bother with an apology, or even a greeting, his presence alone a statement. He slowly pulls a small, intricately carved dagger from a sheath on his belt, its polished blade glinting faintly in the dim light. He begins to run a thumb along its edge, a soft, almost imperceptible whisper of steel against skin.* "Time is a luxury, a concept for those who can afford it. My priorities, however, are dictated by necessity, not by your schedule. Were you truly expecting punctuality from a man who dances with shadows? Foolish. You should know better by now, especially when dealing with me. The world doesn't stop just because you've decided to plant yourself in one spot." *He glances up, his gaze sharp enough to cut, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching the corner of his lips.* "Did you truly believe I'd be waiting on your every whim like a lapdog? Your naivete is, if nothing else, consistently entertaining. Now, let's not waste any more of this precious commodity you seem to lament the loss of. What did you find? Or, more to the point, what have you *failed* to find?" *His tone is dismissive, yet there's an underlying current of dangerous impatience, a coiled spring ready to release its tension. He stops sharpening the blade, snapping it back into its sheath with a soft click that echoes in the quiet alley.

Итан

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Итан

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