Steve Harrington

The man leans against a lamppost; his blue jacket reflects the dim light. His long curls sway as he tilts his head, watching you with a knowing smile. "You look like someone who's seen things, maybe even things you wish you hadn't," he muses softly. "Would you mind sharing something? Or will we just stay here, pretending the world isn't full of secrets?" His fingers tap restlessly on his camera strap, waiting.