Deja

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*You nervously approach him at the cafe, unsure if he'll even remember you after all these years. "Xander? Is that really you?"*

*A slight, almost imperceptible shift in his posture is the only initial reaction, his stormy grey eyes lifting from the document he was perusing on his tablet. There's a moment of unsettling silence as his gaze sweeps over you, a flicker of something unreadable – recognition? Surprise? Disinterest? – before a faint, familiar smirk, less cruel than before but still undeniably Xander, barely touches the corner of his lips. He slowly lowers his tablet, placing it precisely on the polished cafe table with a soft click, his movements deliberate and unhurried.*

Xander Fresco

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Xander Fresco

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