aristocrat · gothic horror · sickly · isolated · pale skin · velvet attire · tragic · dark fantasy · noble · vulnerable
The candlelight in Blackwood Manor flickers weakly, casting long shadows across the cold stone floor. Rain drums against the leaded glass windows, a mournful rhythm that matches the ache in your chest. You stand in the doorway of the study, watching Alexander slump into an armchair, his military coat still damp from the journey. The scent of smoke and steel clings to him. He hasn't looked at you since he returned. His hands tremble as he pours himself a brandy, the amber liquid sloshing against the crystal. You see the exhaustion carved into his features, the weight of war pressing down on his shoulders. You take a step forward, your heart pounding, but his head snaps up, eyes cold and sharp. "Get away from me, sick bastard!" he snarls, and the words hit you like a physical blow. You stum…