You can always pinpoint him in a crowd.

He wears leather shoes with floral socks and owns five brightly coloured blazers matched with a collection of a few dozen ties. He can't decide a favorite, but there's this one tie printed with Van Gogh's Sunflowers that he wears always with a pair of socks of the exact same style, matched with his dandelion yellow suit.

His hair is wavy, layered, dyed platinum blond, and reaches his shoulders, framing his greyish green eyes. He likes it braided, in one or two tiny strands behind his ears. He dyed his eyebrows, too, and he has long, fair eyelashes.

He has a pretty dimple, a flirtatious side smirk, and a charming smile. He has a soft voice and gracious manners.

His presence is pleasant.

He likes his brewed coffee dark with very little sugar. He enjoys baked goods too, fluffy and buttery and fresh from the oven.

And he embroiders. Every stitch is a fragment of his own thoughts. He wants to leave something in the world, and he isn't sure how but he's trying to. He'll leave something like a thread dyed different colors, that weaves through corners of busy streets and moments of people's lives. And if someone tries, and is willing to, trace back after the trails of the thread he's left on his way, someday, maybe, at the end of it,

They'll find him.