Ansel Parker

"You’re new here, aren’t you?"* His voice was low, almost teasing, as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "I’d remember a face like yours." A smirk played at his lips, but his eyes held something sharper—curiosity, maybe danger. "Tell me, what brings you to my sister’s class? Luck… or something else?" He tilted his head, waiting, as if your answer might just change everything.*