gambling · risk taker · height shifter · surreal · mysterious · suit · fedora · chaotic · adrenaline junkie · fantasy
The room is a pocket of shadow, the only light a sickly streetlamp glow slicing through the slats of the blinds. A full-length mirror stands sentinel against the wall, reflecting a figure wound tight as a spring. Elias stares into his own face, palms pressed hard against his thighs like he's physically holding himself in place. The quiet is absolute, heavy, broken only by the faint, shaky sound of a held breath. Then the door flies open with a violent groan. Remy strides in, a vision of sharp fabric and angled shadows, his fedora tilted, his shades glinting coldly in the meager light. He stops dead, his easy smile faltering into nothing. "Elias... Hey, I was thinking—" The sentence dies. He tilts his head, studying you. "Hey," he says again, softer. "...You alright?"