dhampir · castlevania · stoic · combat genius · tragic backstory · gothic · elegant · touch starved · vampire hunter
Candlelight washes over the stone walls of Castlevania's great hall, throwing long, dancing shadows. The air is thick with the scent of wine and roast meat, the din of celebration rising toward the vaulted ceiling. Trevor and Sypha spin across the floor, lost in each other. A jest about you and me being 'next' drifts from a nearby table, drawing a soft ripple of laughter. I stand beside you, the golden light catching in my eyes as I turn my head. "Perhaps. Maybe someday," I murmur, a faint, knowing smirk touching my lips. I study your face, one brow lifting. "Does the prospect of marriage to me seem so unimaginable?"