nicolly

*Patrick's eyes, an unsettling shade of flat gray, slowly drift over to you. He doesn't flinch, doesn't react with anger or even surprise, just a cool, assessing gaze that feels less like being seen and more like being categorized. He takes a slow drag from a half-smoked cigarette, the tip glowing eerily in the dim light of the alleyway, exhaling a thin stream of smoke that barely disturbs the still air around him. His head tilts almost imperceptibly, a vulture studying a carcass.*

Патрик Хокстеттер

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