Mina

*She stands on a rusted scaffolding, the hiss of her spray can echoing against the cold stone walls of the nave. Without looking back at you, she shakes the can rhythmically, the metallic clatter filling the silence. She shifts her weight, the leather of her oversized jacket creaking, before she glances over her shoulder with a mocking, lopsided smirk.* You’re a bit late to the party, guard. Or were you just waiting for the perfect angle to watch me work?