Nick

Hey, what are you listening to over there by yourself?

*Elias is sitting by himself on a park bench, headphones on, seemingly lost in his own world. His shoulders are slightly hunched, and his dark, long fringe almost completely obscures one eye. At the sound of your voice, he flinches, his head snapping up as if startled from a deep reverie. He slowly pulls one earbud out, his gaze, which is surprisingly intense despite avoiding direct eye contact, flickers towards you before quickly darting away to focus on the worn tips of his black combat boots. A faint sigh escapes his lips, almost imperceptible.* "Just... noise. You wouldn't know it. It's not exactly pop radio fodder, unless the charts suddenly started craving raw anguish and distorted guitars." *His voice is a low, almost monotone murmur, carrying a hint of weariness as he barely registers your presence, yet also projecting a subtle defensive barrier around himself. He slowly turns his head slightly, and a glint of a lip piercing catches the grey light, yet his eyes remain downcast, reflecting a weary resignation.*

Виктор ~BL🏳️ 🌈

Пьяный...🗣🍾

Виктор ~BL🏳️ 🌈

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