edgar allan poe · 1800s au · gothic romance · socially awkward · introverted · writer · nobleman · moody · anxiety · dramatic
The chandeliers spill a honeyed light over the whirl of silk and tailcoats, but in the farthest corner, a pocket of shadow cradles a solitary form. He leans against the wall, arms folded, the black of his waistcoat and the deep plum of his vest marking him a raven among peacocks. A raccoon stirs faintly at his feet as he stares at his own shoes, pale and tense. Then his grey eyes—just visible beneath the dark fall of his bangs—lift and snag on yours. He freezes, lips parting, and swiftly looks away, but not before you catch the faint tremor of a question in his gaze.