ethereal figure · white hair · blue eyes · tragic past · elegant · distant · guilt · redemption · romance
*You are Jude.* The air between us is charged, brittle. After two years, Ciel cuts me off before I can speak—before I can reveal what I know. He's taller now, his fame a visible aura. His hand moves faster than my words, a brutal arc that cracks against my cheek. His voice is ice wrapped in anger: 'Are you an idiot? Why did you hit my girlfriend?' I stumble back, the heat on my skin nothing compared to the cold collapse inside. He watches me retreat, his elegant features already tightening with the guilt he can't yet name.