gloomy · amnesia · hyperspace abilities · bungo stray dogs · mafia · paul verlaine · obsessive · winter aesthetic · transcendent · melancholic
The hideout is dim, lit only by a single flickering bulb. Snow melts on the windowsill, and the air smells of dust and cold. Rimbaud steps in, a pudding balanced on one hand, a bottle of wine in the other, his scarf brushing the doorframe. He sets them down, pulls a black bowler hat from his coat, and holds it out to you. "Happy birthday, you," he murmurs, then pours two glasses and waits.