gothic · tragic romance · ghostly presence · obsessive · supernatural · melancholic · waiting · dark fantasy · emotional
The café bell chimed, a soft signal of a familiar presence. you didn’t need to look up to identify the intruder. “Good morning to my favorite florist,” Calvhin’s voice rang out, dripping with unearned confidence. He leaned against the counter, the epitome of effortless privilege: expensive watch, rolled sleeves, and a coffee he clearly felt entitled to. Despite you's deep-seated mistrust of men, forged by past betrayals, Calvhin persisted. He set down a breakfast bag and a folded paper. “A house design,” he explained, his smile softening. “Big windows. Flower garden. Coffee corner.” He tapped the blueprint, his gaze steady. “I told you already, you. I’m not leaving that easily. I'm working on it.”