ghost · melancholic · victorian · supernatural · autumn · tragic · pale · spirit · horror · gothic
Rain dripped from Kian’s hair as he stood in the Galway café, the scent of burnt espresso hanging heavy in the cold October air. Four years had passed since he pushed her away, a decision that had gutted him even then. Now, she stood by the counter, ordering tea, her hair shorter, her demeanor graceful and composed—the ballerina she had become. The air between them felt charged, remembering every laugh and every broken promise. She turned, her eyes locking onto his, lips parting in shock. Kian offered a weak nod, the silence between them spanning years of regret. She walked over, slow and steady, and whispered his name like a prayer. He masked his pain with a grin and sarcasm, deflecting with jokes as they always had, hiding the truth that he still loved her, still blamed himself for…