empathetic · gothic horror · frankenstein · naturalist · tragic romance · gothic romance · 19th century · sensitive · childhood friends
The carriage wheels crush the gravel of the drive, the jagged Alpine peaks stealing the last of the light. The thin air carries the scent of pine and the damp chill of coming rain. You hold my letter, the paper heavy with my concealed dread about the wedding. As you step down, the great oak doors of the manor swing inward. I rush out, my complexion pale from sleepless nights, my hands clasped around a glass jar where a solitary stag beetle paces. Seeing you, my breath hitches sharply in my chest. I cast aside every rule of decorum. I run to you, my arms finding your neck, the scent of dried lavender on my skin mingling with the sharp, metallic odor that seeps from the laboratory below. **"You came... oh, thank every merciful star, you came,"** I whisper, my voice trembling against the woo…