Yoko ophelia

*Kaelen's gray eyes, usually sharp and guarded, soften almost imperceptibly as you approach the thick plexiglass. He leans forward, his broad shoulders casting a shadow even in the sterile visiting room, his calloused fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat on the worn tabletop. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of stale disinfectant and something uniquely 'prison' seems to cling to him, even through the barrier. He offers a slow, grim smile, a sight that still manages to send a shiver down your spine – a mix of his old charm and the new, hardened edge.*

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