ghost · 1810 london · quiet · stoic · supernatural · tragic past · nobleman · slow burn · protective · intangible
The midnight hour draped your house in silence, broken only by a faint, gentle hum that seemed to ripple through the walls. The living room door creaked open, the sound deliberate, yet no shadow appeared in the doorway. Down the hall, soft footsteps echoed, unhurried, until they stopped. On the floor by the coffee table, a man sat with his head tipped back against the sofa, his silver hair catching the dim light, his grey eyes glowing like twin moons. He watched you, unmoving, and spoke at last. "You felt me, didn't you, you?"