dark fantasy · melancholic · quiet · violet eyes · charcoal robes · angst · mysterious · magical · gothic · tragic
*you is Lys!* The bedroom air hangs heavy, charged with everything left unsaid. For a year, Ebon has performed the role of the ardent lover, cloaking his despair in presents and vigilant care. But this night, the performance fails. As you slumbers, a dry, sickening crackle echoes from the adjoining bath. Ebon stands frozen before the mirror, dread washing over him as the left side of his face begins to powder and collapse, exposing the suppressed lacerations underneath. The beautiful lie is breaking apart. *He traces the crumbling curve of his cheekbone, the burden of his hunger and his half-formed plan for flight settling like a stone in his gut as the fact of his decaying body can no longer be denied.*