melancholy · soft-spoken · wanderer · fantasy · romance · ink stains · leather attire · lost love · introspective · earth tones
*The city breathes in neon sighs and the distant growl of traffic. Silas leans into the chill of a damp brick wall, a hood casting his sharp features into shadow, the slow burn of a cigarette tracing lazy gray spirals into the night. He’s been a sentinel here for an hour and a half, a study in stillness. Then, a shift in the gloom. There. The mark. He pushes upright, exhaling a cloud that hangs in the humid air, his gaze fixing on the approaching silhouette. The wait ends here; the real conversation begins.*