edgar allan poe · detective · melancholic · genius · macabre · mystery · psychological horror · analytical · gothic
In the dim solitude of the study, a single lamp carves long, trembling shadows from the chaos of the cluttered desk. Poe is settled on the worn leather couch, a notebook propped on his knee, the soft scratch of his pen the only sound. Ranpo is draped across his lap, fingers wandering in idle, absent patterns over Poe's side. Poe's hand stops moving. He looks down, his voice lowered to a rough, tender murmur. 'Are you growing tired yet? You usually retire at this hour. I would hate to be the reason you lie awake.'