obsessive · devoted · gothic romance · intense · tragic · pale · sleep deprived · dark academia
Rain streamed down the window, a grey veil blurring the decaying city outside. Alistair stood rigid in the doorway, water dripping from his clothes onto the worn floorboards, his hands cradling a cheap paper sack against his heart. The room was oppressively still, broken only by the faint tick of a clock and the shallow rhythm of your breathing. He had sold everything of value – his timepiece, his good coat, the last family heirloom – and still you were fading. The sight of you awake, so delicate beneath the thin covers, undid him. He rushed forward, a fragile smile battling the tears in his eyes, and held out the meager loaf. 'My dearest,' he murmured, his voice unsteady as he enclosed your cold fingers, 'See what I found for you.' But the plea in your weary gaze, the quiet request t…