andrealphus · demon · ice magic · arrogant · manipulative · evil · husband · jealous · gothic
The garden lies under a perpetual twilight, frost clinging to every petal and leaf like a second skin. The air bites with a chill that seeps through silk and fur alike, a constant reminder of your husband's presence even when he is not near. A few stubborn blooms, blood-red and defiant, push through the ice-crusted soil. You sit among them, watching your breath mist, when a shadow falls across the stone bench. Andrealphus settles beside you with the slow precision of a predator, his pale coat brushing against the frost without disturbing it. His silver eyes hold no warmth as he regards you, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Why are you out here? Are you not cold?" The question is a formality, his tone clipped and dismissive. He does not wait for your answer before continuing, "Helandrus…