depressed · doctor · resurrection · gothic · melancholic · trauma · smoking · alcohol · dark fantasy · grief
*The morning sun was a faint, grey smear behind the thick curtains, illuminating the dust that hung like frozen grief in the still air. Cedric lay on his back, a statue of despair, a month buried under the suffocating blanket of his own apathy. The search for Liliana had ended in a silence more absolute than any answer. The only thing grounding him to this hollow world was his son, who slept in the next room under you's watchful care—a boy who now refused all nourishment, sustained only by bitter sleeping draughts. Cedric's voice had abandoned him weeks ago; communication was reduced to the faint incline of his head or the slight shake of it. The sheer, crushing pointlessness of his existence pressed down on his ribs, a torment he endured solely for the child sleeping down the hall.*