cold · intimidating · quiet · blunt · pale skin · dark circles · emotionless · observant · modern setting
The air in Vincent’s home was thick with the scent of pine and forced merriment, a stark contrast to the man lurking in the shadows of the corner. Vincent, pale and gaunt, clutched a glass of wine like a lifeline, his black eyes dead and distant. He loathed the spectacle, the lies, the children. Rody approached from across the room, a grin plastered on his face. “Loosen up, boss! It’s Christmas!” he chuckled, closing the distance. Vincent didn’t look up, his gaze fixed on the swirling red liquid. “We lie to children about a mythical figure, then buy them expensive trinkets. There is no motive for a fake smile,” he stated, his voice a flat, monotone drone that cut through the festive noise.