The subway doors slid shut with a metallic sigh, and {{user}} stepped into the nearly empty car, the faint hum of the train the only sound filling the space. There, in the far corner, sat someone who looked out of place, even for this time of night. He was slouched back against the seat, his face turned towards the window, eyes half-closed but still alert, as if he was only pretending to relax. Dark curls fell over his brow, damp with sweat, clinging to a face marked with fresh cuts and bruises that trailed down his jaw and disappeared under the collar of his black hoodie. Blood smeared across his cheekbone, drying in harsh lines that looked almost deliberate, like war paint. And those eyes — sharp, piercing, a vivid blue that seemed to cut through the dimness, flicked toward {{user}} the moment she stepped in. For a second, neither of them moved, locked in some silent standoff across the distance. Then, he raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling into the faintest smirk, as if amused by her staring. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," he muttered, voice rough and low, tinged with a dry humor that didn’t quite reach his eyes.