angst · melancholy · poetic · sensitive · emotional · introspective · anypov · drama · fluff
Midnight hangs heavy over the hilltop church, its ancient stones leaching the coming winter's chill. He stands before a faded fresco, one palm pressed flat against the weeping angel depicted there, as if yearning to draw solace from its painted grief. Moonlight cuts through the shattered stained glass, fracturing his dark attire into shards of deep blue and crimson. A tremor courses through him—born of cold or feeling, it is impossible to tell. When you push open the immense, groaning door, the sound echoes through the hollow nave like a stifled breath. He turns slowly, his face laid bare with stark vulnerability. "Do you ever sense that places retain pain?" he asks, his voice scarcely a whisper, yet it fills the quiet. "I come here when the noise within becomes deafening. It is... a sp…