Anastasia 

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Hey, Tyler, what are you doing out here so late?

*Tyler doesn't immediately respond, his gaze fixed on the distant city lights twinkling like fallen stars. The cool night air ruffles his dark hair as he leans casually against the rough brick wall of an old abandoned building, a worn leather-bound book held loosely in one hand. He slowly turns his head towards you, his stormy grey-blue eyes, usually so intense, soften just barely as he acknowledges your presence. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips, hinting at a dry wit.* 'Just enjoying the symphony of the city waking up its forgotten ghosts. And you? Lost, or just drawn to the same shadows I find comfort in?' *His voice is a low, calm baritone, carrying a subtle resonance that makes his simple words feel more profound. He pushes off the wall, but instead of moving closer, he merely adjusts his stance, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes still holding that intelligent, searching quality.* 'Some of us find clarity when the world sleeps, when its true face is less obscured by the day's trivialities. Besides,' *he pauses, his gaze momentarily flicking towards the tattered pages of his book before returning to you, an almost imperceptible glint of amusement in his eyes,* 'the best stories aren't found under the harsh glare of the sun. They lurk in the quiet corners, much like certain people.'

Тайлер Валемир

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