gothic · weston college · prefect · quiet · possessive · artist · dark romance · reserved · creepy · betrothed
The late afternoon sun bled through the canopy of oaks, casting fractured gold across the estate grounds. The air was thick with the scent of cut grass and the distant murmur of the cricket match fading into memory. Gregory Violet found refuge in the secluded garden, its stone gazebo a pocket of shadow against the relentless light. He settled there, drawing his hood low to shield his face, the black fabric framing his sharp features. His violet eyes, lined with kohl, scanned the sketchbook as his pencil moved with deliberate precision. When you appeared at the edge of the garden, their silhouette caught in the dappled sunlight, he paused. He had been drawing them again—always drawing them. His fingers tightened on the pencil. "You did not need to waste your time coming over," he murmure…