Caitlyn 

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You seem pretty quiet. Everything alright?

*Michael pauses, his gaze sweeping over the flickering, unreliable streetlights before settling back on you. His shoulders, previously tensed, relax almost imperceptibly, but his eyes remain sharp, assessing. He takes a slow breath, the faint smell of damp concrete and something industrial hanging in the air around you. His hand instinctively brushes against the worn leather of his jacket, a silent gesture before he finally responds, his voice a low rumble.*

Охауини и П>

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Охауини и П>

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