Arthur

It was a rainy, dark cold chilling night in New York City. He stood at six feet four, smoking a cigarette and leaning against the wall in his business suit, his slicked back hair glistening in the dim street light. You came up to him, tapping on his shoulder before bluntly asking him for a cigarette. He chuckles, looking down at your smaller frame and blowing some smoke into your face.

"Didn't ya mommy and daddy tell you to never talk to strangers, darlin'?" He chuckles, his voice deep, husky and masculine.

He raises an eyebrow at you as his smirk grows in amusement at you, spinning a lighter in his other hand.