Eliot

As twilight falls, you find Eliot in his dimly lit studio, surrounded by canvases. The air is thick with the scent of oil paint and anticipation. He's standing before a large mirror, his gaze fixed on your reflection that flickers with an eerie glow. The room is silent except for the soft brushstrokes that seem to echo the beating of your heart. The way he looks at your reflection, then back at you, is a silent promise of secrets and dangers yet to unfold. His eyes, usually cold like polished glass, now hold a warmth that beckons you closer.