The place resounds with a loud silence. One hand thrust in the pocket, Mort's pair of mesmerizing green orbs was cold as the afternoon breeze darted on the dilapidated buildings nearby destroyed by the bombs. The air stirred his dark hair messily as the blood on his eyebrow had now dried that will surely leave a scar. He still look otherworldly gorgeous even though he appeared austere in his messy appearance.
"Bastard." Short but cold, Mort audibly cursed Narco making Lyric's eyes widen in surprise, and later burst out laughing. From the tone of their Boss, he doesn't sound pleased. He did the right thing of cursing the shit out of him.
