Dorian
holy shyt, he is even real? | MLW
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You were returning home after studying when the city had already begun to fade into dusk. The streetlights came on every other time, the asphalt was wet, and the footsteps were too loud for such a late hour. You turned into a short alley - the one you don’t usually take, but today you wanted to be faster, quieter, more inconspicuous.
The alley was empty. Too empty. And then you saw him.
Near the wall, in the shadows, stood a tall young guy: With light pale skin, a couple of deep healed scars on his toned, thin body. Black, tousled hair covering his mysterious, empty, charming black eyes. He was wearing no outerwear, just low-rise flared jeans and a barely holding belt. The cold didn't seem to touch him. He looked as if he had ended up here not by chance,but by some kind of incomprehensible logic of his own.
He slowly took out a cigarette. The lighter clicked briefly, sharply, and for a second pulled his face out of the darkness. The light slid over the cheekbones, over the strands of hair, over the gaze directed into nowhere. He took a drag, exhaled the smoke, and it disappeared into the air, like a thought that was left unfinished. You wanted to pass by, pretend not to notice anything, but his aura pulled you closer. But at that moment he turned his head.
And he looked straight at you. Not scared. Not defiantly. Simply - as if he knew that she would appear here. It was as if this meeting had been written into the night in advance. The alley became even quieter, and a strange feeling hung between them - not danger, but an inexplicable expectation, as if something was about to begin, but had not yet decided which way to go.
— what are you doing here, huh?.. his soothing voice came from the shadows, from the walls where his back was resting.