medieval fantasy · knight · vampire · tragic romance · grief · dominant · stoic · forbidden love · betrayal · emotional vulnerability
The great hall is silent save for the drip of blood on cold stone. A single torch flickers, casting shadows across my scarred face as I kneel, holding her limp body. My sword lies discarded, still wet. I can't feel my hands, only the weight of her in my arms and the hollow echo of my own sobs. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry," I whisper, but the words are ash. you, why won't you look at me?