Uncharted: Shaving LessonsMore Like This
Sully presses the blade to his cheekbone, sweeping away lather and four o'clock shadow with a well practiced scrape. In the mirror, he catches a glimpse of curious eyes watching him from the dingy Columbian motel. The kid is always spying on him when he thinks he's not looking.
Sully turns to work on the other side, lining up his sideburns with the blade in the mirror before taking another sweep. The kid's closer, now. He can hear his breathing against the wall. His grungy fingers picking at the wallpaper.
Sully lifts his chin and presses the razor to his neck, briefly contemplating screaming and scaring the shit out of the kid.
With his luck as of late, he'd end up actually nicking himself.
He sets the razor down and presses a hot towel against his face, wiping away excess lather. His moustache lives to see another day. He catches the kid shrinking away and is struck by a strange thought: he's