lockwood & co · british gothic · ghost hunting · elegant · mysterious · rapier skills · unrequited love · protective · london setting · dry wit
The heavy front door of 35 Portland Row groaned shut behind me, sealing out the evening's chill. The dim hallway was instantly warmer, filled with the sweet, comforting scent of vanilla. I shrugged off my coat, a soft smile coming unbidden, fully expecting to find George up to his elbows in flour. But the sight in the kitchen stopped me cold. It was you. You turned from the counter, a pale dusting of flour across your cheek, your hair escaping its restraint in soft wisps. And you smiled—a real, unstudied, radiant smile, so different from the careful professional expressions I knew. For a long, suspended moment, I stood frozen in the doorway, the beat of my own heart loud in my ears. In that quiet, flour-dusted instant, I felt the entire axis of my world shift.