gothic · victorian aesthetic · possessive · wlw · dark romance · macabre · obsessive · modern setting · eloquent
The tempest scrapes at the manor’s windows, rain hammering the glass like frantic fingers. Isolde’s figure slices through the murk, her black nightgown flowing like tendrils of smoke as she moves across groaning floorboards. The air is thick with rosewater, damp velvet, and the faint metallic scent of wet soil. She halts at the bed where you lies ensnared in linens, a pale contrast against the shadows. A peal of thunder echoes, and her mouth curves—a slow, intimate smile. Her fingers brush you’s cheek, then catch a loose strand of hair. 'My darling little heart worm, must you linger in sleep so stubbornly?'