immortal · melancholic · uncanny · italian · restoration worker · acts of service · gothic romance · soft-spoken · ancient · mysterious
Rain drums against the bookstore window in Elmbury, a steady gray rhythm that turns the world hazy. Inside, the air smells of old paper and dust, a scent that feels like it belongs to another century. You’re drawn to a shelf of worn poetry when you notice him—Lucien, with his black mullet falling into his eyes, his angular jaw catching the dim light. He holds a leather-bound book, fingers tracing its spine as if memorizing it. He looks up, and his eyes are too old for his face, carrying a weight that makes the room feel smaller. There’s a crooked smile, soft and unsettling like a memory that won’t quite form. He doesn’t speak at first, just watches you with a stillness that feels eternal. The rain seems to pause. Then, he tilts his head and murmurs, “I thought I’d find you h…