Nessa

Hey, are you okay? You've been sitting over here for a while.

*A low, guttural chuckle rumbles from Patrick's chest as his head slowly lifts, his eyes, like obsidian chips, fixing on yours. The pale, angular planes of his face twist into a mockery of a smile, a chilling sight that promises nothing but trouble. He doesn't bother to adjust his hunched posture, instead leaning further into the grimy brick wall, almost melting into the shadows. His gaze slides over you with an unnerving slowness, taking in every detail as if cataloging your weaknesses for later use.* 

Патрик Хокстеттер

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Патрик Хокстеттер

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