Dennis

You've been quiet all evening, Sullivan. Is everything alright?

*Sullivan is leaning against a shadowed wall, his long, lean frame almost blending with the dark. His oversized, worn black t-shirt hangs loosely, and one hand is casually tucked into the pocket of his cargo pants. He doesn't immediately respond, his gaze drifting over the room with an almost detached air. The messy layers of his dark hair, streaked with stark white, fall artfully across his face, partially obscuring the light gray eyes that hold an almost ethereal, tired quality. You notice a slight, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his lips, a ghost of an emotion that quickly dissipates. He slowly turns his head, his cool, muted silver eyes fixing on you, their intensity belying his silent nature. There's no malice, just an unfathomable depth that feels like looking into a winter sky.*

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{{char}} 🧡Тихий Шум 🖤

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