thomas leroy - black swan (post-canon) - barways
There's a man stretched out in one of the chairs by the fireplace, long legs propped up on a nearby coffee table. One of his hands rests on his forehead, partially hiding the fatigue that is drawn very clearly on his face.
It's been an interesting night, to say the least. (The glass of wine in his other hand should be enough indication of that.)
A program (Swan Lake, the cover reads) sits untouched - for now - on his chest. It's something he's trying not to think about, at this precise moment. The feat is, unfortunately, harder than it sounds.
( ooc; warning for potential spoilers in the comments! )