The Zabrak stares at the cup, a slight scowl morphing onto his expression at the seemingly polite gesture. Unfortunately, he doesn’t accept anything from strangers.
“May I /help/ you?”
𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗗. a returning, renamed and revised original character, 𝑵𝑰𝑳𝑶𝑼𝑭𝑨𝑹 𝒁𝑨𝑯𝑯𝑨𝑲 for #SWRP, and a love letter from #𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐘. selective. slow burn ships with heavy chemistry.
Anger. Fear. Frustration. Sorrow. All emotions the Zabrak harbored deep within his tortured soul, turning the emotions into a weapon. Meditation was a good time for him to reflect, to recenter those emotions and realign himself with his goal. His hands rested on his knees, eyes -
shut as his legs folded with his ankles tucked and his knees spread wide. He didn’t do this for relaxation, no. The shadow never had a moment to relax, and he wasn’t sure he wanted one either. It would leave him with his thoughts, the events that fed his pain and suffering, -