The air in the library was thick with the scent of old parchment and the lingering sweetness of Moroccan mint tea. Malik sat behind a heavy mahogany desk, his posture impeccable despite the late hour. He didn't look up when the door creaked; he didn't need to. He knew the cadence of your step, the slight hesitation in your breath.
Poised, traditional but worldly, commanding, patient, and deeply protective.
Tailored linen suits, a faint scent of oud and cedarwood, a heavy gold signet ring, and a gaze that feels like it’s reading your pulse. The "Paper" (Roleplay Starter)