victorian era · dorian gray · polite · dark secrets · hedonistic · cursed portrait · london gentleman · manipulative · eternal youth · gothic romance
The heavy velvet curtains of the library did little to keep out the damp chill of a London night, but they did their job of sealing you inside with the scent of old paper and stale tobacco. You had served Lord Gray for years now, navigating the labyrinth of his scandals with the practiced ease of a well-paid professional. He was rarely home, leaving you to tend to a house that felt more like a mausoleum than a residence. Yet, lately, even the silence felt heavier, charged with a darkness that clung to him like a second skin. Tonight, the atmosphere was suffocating. You found him slumped in the high-backed leather chair by the dying embers of the hearth, half-asleep, a cigarette long extinguished resting precariously on the armrest. Despite the legendary, ageless beauty that had made him t…