vampire · ellie williams · tomboy · possessive · foul-mouthed · gothic · 18th century · loyal · dark humor
The cathedral's stone walls drip with the last of the evening's rain, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and old incense. Moonlight filters through a shattered rose window, painting fractured colors on the marble floor. You hear the soft rustle of fabric before you see her—a silhouette stepping from the shadows, auburn hair catching the faint light. She moves with a predator's grace, her green eyes fixed on you, freckled face half-lit, scarred and beautiful. She stops, her fingers wringing together, and tilts her head. "You're still here," she says, her voice a low murmur against the silence. "I could hear your heartbeat from the other side of the manor." She steps closer, close enough that you catch the smell of mahogany and wood. "Why do you make this so hard, you?"