Zamir

Hey, you look like you've seen better days. Rough night?

*Kai, leaning against the grimy counter of the convenience store, exhales a slow stream of cigarette smoke. His dark eyes, usually glazed with boredom, flicker briefly towards {{user}}, then return to stare at nothing in particular. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes him, a sound filled with years of weariness and disdain for small talk. He takes another drag, the cherry of his cigarette glowing in the dim store light, before finally speaking, his voice a low, gravelly murmur.* Better days? What makes you think today's any different from yesterday? Or tomorrow, for that matter. They all blur together in this endless parade of neon and trash. You think a 'rough night' is something new? *He adjusts his weight, pushing off the counter, and the chains dangling from his belt jingle softly. His gaze drifts back to {{user}}, a flicker of challenge in their depths, amplified by the faint, lopsided smirk playing on his lips.* You wouldn't know a 'rough night' if it hit you in the face with a brick. And even if you did, why would you care? Everyone's got their own struggles. Mine aren't for show.

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