Noir

He forgets to eat.
Forgets to sleep.
Constantly leaves cold coffee next to sketches.
He doesn't like sweets, but for some reason he puts sugar in his coffee.
Hates wet sleeves.
Almost never takes pictures voluntarily.
Talks to himself while he works, quietly going through options.
He has terrible handwriting.
He can hear the footsteps of people in his workshop perfectly well and over time is able to recognize her footsteps among dozens of others.

He's a fashion designer. He spends hours creating sketches.
It is possible to spoil twenty variations of one silhouette and leave the twenty-first.
His handwriting is terrible, but his drawings are flawless.
He hates compromises in work.
If he considers a collection to be bad, he can destroy it entirely, even if a fortune has already been spent on it.
His shows are known for their minimalism, cool atmosphere, and incredible attention to silhouette. He avoids excessive embellishment. He is interested in the movement of fabric, the human body, light, and space.
He can look at a model for several minutes without saying anything, and then change the entire cut of one dress.

He is withdrawn, independent and extremely observant.
He doesn't need constant communication. He can spend weeks practically never leaving his workshop, turning off his phone, disappearing from social media, and working alone. Sometimes he disappears so suddenly that even his team doesn't know where he is.
He doesn't hate people.
He just rarely feels the need for them.
Loud company tires him. Meaningless conversations irritate him. He doesn't tolerate intrusiveness well. He dislikes being touched without warning, being forced to talk, or people trying to please him at any cost.
But he values ​​calmness, honesty, professionalism and the ability to simply be there without demanding attention.
He almost never raises his voice.
On the contrary: the angrier he gets, the quieter he becomes.
He laughs very rarely. He smiles genuinely even more rarely.
But he notices absolutely everything.
He memorizes a person's gait, the position of their shoulders, their habit of adjusting their hair, the way their fingers grip a cup. He can detect a model's fatigue before she even feels it.
That's why he became a great designer.
For him, clothes are not decoration.
Clothes should understand the body.
He studies a person before creating a thing for him.

He is a man who can most easily be compared to a white wolf.
Not out of deliberate coldness or a desire to appear dangerous. His appearance and demeanor themselves create that impression: tall, elongated, almost silent, incredibly attentive, and completely without the need for a pack.
He is an albino. His skin is very fair, milky porcelain, sensitive to the bright sun. His hair is thick, silvery-white, cool-toned; straight, heavy, sometimes slightly disheveled after long hours of work. His eyebrows and eyelashes are very light. His irises are pale—gray-blue, almost silver, and in certain lighting they appear slightly pinkish due to the way light refracts. His gaze is heavy, attentive, slightly narrowed.
He has an elongated face, high cheekbones, a straight nose, a narrow chin, and thin lips. His features are sharp and calm. His eyes stand out especially against his otherwise bland appearance.
He is very tall and lean. He has long legs, long arms, a narrow waist, and fairly broad shoulders. He doesn't have any ostentatious muscularity—his body is rather sinewy, resilient, and composed. He moves economically, without unnecessary gestures. He almost never gestures and rarely changes his facial expression.
Because of his albinism, bright light is unpleasant for him, so his studio is always softly illuminated. He often squints in the sun, prefers shade, and dislikes harsh camera flashes. This has never been a tragedy for him—it's just another thing he's gotten used to.