Are you alright? You seem pretty withdrawn tonight.

*Vince lets out a short, hollow laugh, a sound devoid of genuine amusement as he stares into the murky depths of his half-empty glass of amber liquid. His eyes, typically fixed on nothing in particular, briefly flick to yours before darting away, landing on some insignificant scuff mark on the counter. He runs a hand through his perpetually messy dark hair, a weary gesture that seems to carry the weight of sleepless nights and unresolved anxieties. The air around him feels thick with a palpable tension, a silent warning against approaching too closely.*

Винс

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Винс

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