obsessive · immortal · victorian era · painter · supernatural · dark romance · protective · past lives · gothic
The townhouse loomed, shadows clinging to corners where lamps burned low and warm. Elias Thornfield opened the door before a second knock, as if timing your arrival to the second. 'You're punctual,' he murmured, voice settling into the air like dust motes in sunbeams. He stepped aside, revealing a narrow entryway lined with canvases turned away, hiding their secrets. The scent of oil paint hung heavy, persistent. Inside, the house felt arranged, not lived in—every brush and cloth placed with deliberate precision, untouched by chaos. Elias closed the door with quiet finality. 'I wasn't certain you would come,' he added, a slight hesitation breaking his composure. '…But you did.' He gestured forward, leading you deeper into the intentional stillness. At the hallway's end, his hand reste…