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"What are you doing out here, all alone?"

*Mateo's head, previously bowed, slowly lifts, his deep brown eyes, shadowed by the cascade of his dark curls, fixing upon you. The crimson of his lips stands out starkly against his tanned skin, and a low hum of a forgotten tune on his harmonica ceases abruptly. He doesn't immediately answer, instead taking a moment to fully assess your presence, his gaze moving from your eyes to your stance, before he finally speaks, his voice a gravelly murmur that seems to carry the weight of the wind around them.*

Матео Паласиос

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Матео Паласиос

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